To Follow Your Heart
by Lady Vorgunby
Summary: this follows Bring Him Home and An End to Darkness...Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are forced to choose between following orders or doing what they believe is right.


Title: To Follow Your Heart

Title: To Follow Your Heart

Author: Lady Vorgunby [ladyvorgunby@hotmail.com][1]

Rating: PG-13 

Category: Angst, mush, h/c

Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan must decide whether or not to follow orders, or do what they think is right.

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. Don't sue, I'm not worth it.

Feedback: Is what keeps me writing.

Prologue:

"Master?" Obi-Wan asked from behind the tall, long-haired man.

"Yes?" Qui-Gon didn't turn from the stove in their small kitchen where he was preparing evening meal.

"One of the older Padawans said something today, and I'm not sure what to think." The fourteen-year-old apprentice continued to set the table with plates, cups, and utensils, then getting the few needed items out of the cooling unit.

"What happened, Padawan?" Qui-Gon used the Force to transport the roasted nerf from the oven to the table and carried the potatoes he'd just finished. 

Obi-Wan poured himself a cup of juice and filled his Master's cup with water before taking his seat. "Dirk said that we have to follow all orders, unconditionally. Is that true?"

Qui-Gon continued to serve up the nerf, potatoes, and salad as he answered his Padawan's question. "As Padawans, you are taught to obey orders, but also to think for yourself. There will probably come a time, either in your training or after your Knighthood when you will receive an order you do not agree with, and can't follow. It's up to you to decide to follow that order, or to follow your heart and do what's right."

"Even if it means challenging you?" Obi-Wan asked wide-eyed.

"Even if it means challenging me, Obi-Wan. But," Qui-Gon paused for emphasis. "There is an appropriate time to challenge orders. In the middle of a fight, I expect you to obey, and talk with me after, if there was something you didn't agree with. I know it seems contradictory, but—"

Obi-Wan cut him off. "No, Master. It makes sense. There is a time for everything, and I will know when the time is right for immediate action, or later discussion."

"You are wise, Obi-Wan. Now eat, before it gets cold," Qui-Gon ordered, mock sternly.

The teenager wasted no time digging into his cooling food.

*~*~*

"Obi-Wan? Open your eyes, Padawan, I know you're awake."

The melodious alto voice was familiar, comforting, as was the small strong hand gripping his own. Obi-Wan forced his gray-blue eyes open, blinking back the glare of the overhead florescent lights of the Healer's ward.

"Lida?" the young man rasped, throat dry from lack of liquid and use. He attempted to turn his head to find the Master Healer, but the small movement sent a wave of dizziness over him and caused stars to burst forth in his vision. Closing his eyes against the onslaught, his fought to regain his center as all the pain his body felt made themselves known. He squeezed Lida's hand with all the strength he could muster. "Hurts," he whimpered.

"I know Obi-Wan. Hold on just another moment, Bant's bringing a pain-killer," Lida soothed, using her free hand to push the ginger hair off his forehead. Jedi were taught from a young age how to control pain, but young Obi-Wan was suffering from numerous injuries, and it was overloading his capabilities. Lida had done the best she could to heal him, but some of the wounds would take longer to heal, and would be painful.

Bant returned and handed her a hypo-spray. The Master Healer double-checked the painkiller—she didn't want to put the boy back to sleep, just relieve some of his pain. Satisfied it was the right drug, she injected it into the boys neck. He instantly relaxed as it coursed through his system. 

Obi-Wan brought his breathing back under control as he felt the pain recede. Slowly, he turned to face Lida and Bant. "Qui-Gon?" he croaked.

Bant raised a cup with a straw to his lips. "Sip slowly," she cautioned.

"Your Master is in your quarters, Obi-Wan. He wasn't too badly hurt, and I didn't want to have to sedate him later. I made him leave, to get some rest. Though I imagine it won't be long before he's down here, now that you're awake," she said with a smile. The Healer knew the routine with the Jinn/Kenobi pair. Usually, by the time one regained consciousness, the other needed to be sedated to work on their own healing. How many times have we repeated this scenario?

//Too many, Master// Bant's voice sounded in her head, over their bond. Every time her best friend returned to the Temple, it seemed to Bant that he returned either unconscious or watching over his Master's unconscious form. It was cause for enormous amounts of meditation on the apprentice healer's part. It hurt her very much to have to see her best friend in pain. 

"See, not long at all," Lida continued as she heard the tap, step of someone using the assistance of a cane. "Those steps are *much* to heavy to be Master Yoda, unless the troll's gained a lot of weight since his physical last week, so it must be,"

"Master!" Obi-Wan's relieved smile lit up the room as he caught sight of Qui-Gon in the doorway. The tall Master leaned on his cane, and limped slowly into the room, nodding gratefully at Bant, and sagging into the chair the apprentice had just placed at Obi-Wan's bedside.

//Come, Padawan// Bant heard her Master call. //Let's give them a few moments.//

Aloud Lida said, "We'll be in my office for a few minutes if you need anything." They left without waiting for a reply.

*~*~*

Qui-Gon sank into the chair Bant had thoughtfully placed at Obi-Wan's left side and took the nearest hand in his own large, callused one.

Obi-Wan turned to face his Master; he heard Lida and Bant leave as Qui-Gon lightly stroked the scars on his wrist, a motion that had become an endearment a year or so after the scars had appeared.

"How're you feeling, Ben?" Qui-Gon asked softly, still holding tightly to the young man's hand.

"Tired. Doesn't hurt so much now. Lida gave me something. You're helping with that I assume?" The 20-year old Padawan smiled through his raspy voice.

Qui-Gon smiled in return. "I am. I'm glad to see you awake. You had me very worried." Hints of the Master's slight accent were creeping into his speech, showing his Padawan just how concerned he had been, and how much needed the sleep he'd been missing as a result.

"I'm sorry." Obi-Wan's gaze dropped from his Master's face to his free hand, toying with the blanket over his lap.

Qui-Gon squeezed his hand. "None of that now, Ben. There was nothing you could do, and what you did do saved all of the delegates." He lifted the lightly stubbled chin of his apprentice so the blue-green eyes met his own. "I'm very proud of what you did, Obi-Wan. But I'll never *not* worry when you're injured."

"I know, Master." Obi-Wan yawned. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" Qui-Gon softly tested his apprentice's recollection of their last mission.

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. He let his eyes drift half closed and chewed his lower lip in concentration. "Just—flashes really," He related to his Master. His eyes turned to his shoulder, taking in the new flesh there. "I remember the blaster shot, after that just glimpses of the station coming down."

"You were in and out of consciousness on the way back," Qui-Gon explained. "I tried to keep you in a healing trance, but you weren't being very cooperative." He softened that comment with a smile.

"I'm sure a lack of painkillers had something to do with that," Obi-Wan mumbled wryly, noting a dull ache in his chest as some of the drugs Lida pumped into him wore off. He yawned. "How long was I out?"

Qui-Gon chuckled lightly at the incongruity of the question. "Not long enough apparently. 3 days in bacta after surgery for the internal injuries. Lida healed your lung and used a bone knitter on your ribs, but they might be painful for awhile still.  


Obi-Wan grumbled. "Tell me what I don't know."

Qui-Gon smiled again, glad to have his Padawan back. "You've been out of the bacta for a day. So, total, you slept through about a week, given travel time."

"And I'm sure you'll make up for it with early morning training once I'm recovered," Obi-Wan managed with a smile after another yawn. "Are you okay?" He turned his Master's hand over in his own so he could be the one to offer support.

Qui-Gon nodded. "I was able to take cover. My leg was pretty severely damaged, but Healer Darrell did a good job putting it back together, and," the Master gloated, "I only needed one day in bacta." Qui-Gon knew how much Obi-Wan hated the viscous red gel, and teased him mercilessly about the inordinate amount of time he seemed to spend in it.

"I'm sure if I was more awake," Obi-Wan said sleepily, his eyelids drooping. "I could come up with a clever retort for that."

"Get some rest then." Qui-Gon smoothed red-gold hair off Obi-Wan's forehead and dropped a kiss there. "Yoda, Mace and Monroe will be by in the next couple days to talk to you, so you need to conserve some energy."

The mention of Robert Monroe brought Obi-Wan slightly more awake. Monroe, now in his late 70s, had been offered a Council seat the day after his knighting, making him the youngest Jedi ever to achieve the position. The man had been after Obi-Wan as his own Padawan when Qui-Gon finally took him on, after Bandomeer.

"You'll be here?" The apprentice asked sleepily, aided back into relaxation by a slight Force nudge.

"Always, Ben. Now sleep."

"Yes, Master." //Love you// resonated through their bond.

Qui-Gon sent his own assurances of love as well as a healing wave of warmth and comfort while he continued to lightly stroke Obi-Wan's wrist as the young man drifted into a peaceful slumber.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan let himself ease out of the healing meditations he'd been occupying himself with for the last couple days. He had felt the approach of his Master, as well as Masters Yoda, Monroe, and Windu. The Masters were standing about in the hallway, no doubt listening patiently to whatever ground-rules Lida was laying down. Obi-Wan smirked when Qui-Gon slipped into the room; Lida was indeed establishing her Rules of Patient Debriefing.

"You know, Master," Obi-Wan spoke, smirk still on his face. "With as many times as we've given reports to the Council from the Healer's, you'd think those three would have her spiel memorized by now. 

Qui-Gon chuckled lightly. "I do believe you are right, Padawan." He gave Obi-Wan a quick once over. "Are you sure you're ready to do this? I can make them wait if--"

"No," Obi-Wan interrupted. "I want to get it over with." He wasn't all that comfortable around Master Monroe, so if he had to face him, he wanted it to be in protective surroundings. For once he was glad to be under Lida's supervision. 

Qui-Gon caught some unidentified emotion being released through the training bond he shared with his apprentice. "What troubles you, Ben?" he asked softly.

Obi-Wan sighed. "There's something about Master Monroe. I've heard disturbing rumors—that contain both him and you."

Qui-Gon sighed mentally. He and Robert Monroe had been at odds for at least 30 years; since about the time Qui-Gon had taken his first apprentice. The last 7 years, the time he had been training Obi-Wan had been the worst. //We'll talk about it later, Padawan// he sent as the Masters entered.

Lida trailed them—ostensibly to keep an eye on Obi-Wan and make sure her Rules were followed. Obi-Wan spent enough time in her company to know better. //She wants the inside story// he sent to Qui-Gon, with a wave of amusement.

//She's always interested in how you manage to come back here in less than one piece// was the dry reply.

//The same could be said of you, Master of mine//

Qui-Gon rose, leaning on his cane and bowed awkwardly to the Masters circling the foot of Obi-Wan's bed. Mace impatiently waved him back into his seat with a smile. Obi-Wan nodded from his inclined position.

"How feel you, Obi-Wan?" Yoda asked.

"Better than a few days ago, Master Yoda," he answered polite and honestly. //At least my chest doesn't feel like the initiates have been using it for trampoline practice anymore//.

Qui-Gon stifled a laugh behind a cough.

"We came here today," Monroe started, not wasting any time as usual, "to get your 'report' so to speak, on the events at Dermimia Prime, Padawan Kenobi." The Master's voice was still deep and silky smooth, and had lost none of the cultured accent, similar to Obi-Wan's own, even after more than 50 years on the Council.

"Yes, Master. Where should I begin?"

"At the beginning would be appropriate, Padawan," Monroe answered, tone as dry as ever.

//20 years ago, a force sensitive child was born to the Kenobi family…// His mental voice trailed off as Qui-Gon shot him a look. Under the seemingly harsh gaze, Obi-Wan found the amusement lurking in his Master's eyes.

"Yes, Master," he said aloud, both to Monroe, and Qui-Gon's admonishment. He let his eyes drift half closed and he sought his center, readying to tell of the events of Dermimia Prime.

*~*~*

The station hung high above the barren world and it's broken moon. Some long ago war had slagged the satellite and left the planet devoid of all life. 20 year old Obi-Wan Kenobi spared another glance out the small window as he prepared morning tea for his Master.

It's a rare day indeed when I'm up before Master Qui-Gon the apprentice mused as he waited for the water to come to a boil. Obi-Wan was not well known for being a morning person. But there had been a strong niggling feeling at the back of his mind all night, making sleep elusive. 

The student had risen early and meditated, but found no answers. He switched to low level katas, trying to loosen his tense muscles and find his elusive center, then set about preparing tea before showering.

//Good morning, Master// he sent when he felt the older man awaken, just as he was pouring the boiling water over the leaves.

He received a wave of amused concern from Qui-Gon, questioning his apprentice's early rise. Obi-Wan sent back assurances that he was fine as he finished preparing the tea.

A few moments later, an awake, but not yet showered Jedi Master ambled into the kitchenette in their small station quarters and claimed his morning tea from his Padawan. Dressed only in the sleep pants he wore to bed, Qui-Gon took a seat at the table and took the proffered data pad with the day's schedule from Obi-Wan.

"Looks like you're on guard duty today, Padawan," Qui-Gon said between sips of tea.

"Hmm?" Obi-Wan turned from the counter where he was slicing up fruit for breakfast.

Qui-Gon looked up from the pad, a look of concern on his face. "Ben, you seem distracted. Is everything okay?" 

"Yes, Master. Just a—weird feeling. I can't place it," the apprentice explained as he turned back to the waiting fruit. 

"Did you meditate on it Padawan?"

"Meditation, the Jedi cure-all," Obi-Wan quipped without turning. "None of my questions were answered." The young man shrugged. "I'm sure it's nothing, stress and lack of sleep catching up with me. We've been bouncing from mission to mission without a break for quite awhile." Since his promotion to a Padawan of senior status after his 18th year, the Council had kept the pair on almost constant missions away from the Temple, believing that the Padawan could learn more away from Coruscant. They had been at the Temple only twice since his promotion. "What were you saying?"

Qui-Gon was reluctant to let the subject drop, but Obi-Wan's blatant dismissal left him little choice. "I was saying you get guard duty today." He paused to take a bite of fruit from the bowl that was placed in front of him. "With all the delegates finally aboard, the Consortium is demanding the strictest of security measures."

Obi-Wan nodded his understanding. The pair was sent by the Council to oversee the Trade Consortium's meetings and negotiations that take place every 10 or so years. The Consortium never met regularly, just when they felt that rules needed to be reworked. The last time they had met, 14 years ago, things had gotten so out of hand, three delegates were severely injured and a conference room was pretty much destroyed.

It wasn't only petty infighting that the delegates were concerned with this year. Several members of the Consortium had received threatening messages from persons unknown, thus increasing the desire for a Jedi mediator. The Consortium had specifically requested a pair of Jedi; one to oversee negotiations, one to keep an eye out for anything troublesome.

"Master," Obi-Wan said, breaking the silence of each man's thoughts. "It only makes sense that I get stuck with guard duty."

Qui-Gon looked up from his breakfast the agenda to meet his apprentice's mischievous gaze.

"After all, it's left to the senior member of the team to complete negotiations." He smiled innocently.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said with a straight face. "I'm not sure I appreciate the use of the word 'senior'."

Obi-Wan just continued to smile blithely and turned his attention back to his fruit and tea. 

*~*~*

"Here's your headset, Jedi Kenobi. The Security Force is set on channel 7." Captain Zzofl handed over the headset to the Padawan, who slipped it on. "Comm check. Do you read me?"

Obi-Wan made an adjustment to the volume levels. "Loud and clear, Captain."

The head of the Dermimia Prime Station Security Force led Obi-Wan out of the main office and accompanied him to his station outside the conference room. "The delegates should begin arriving soon, and they will want to see that appropriate security measures are being taken."

Obi-Wan nodded his agreement. "Are you expecting trouble, Captain?" He sensed his Master already in the conference room, working with a team of Security agents to make sure the room was secure.

"No," Zzofl replied. "But we want to be ready for anything. A few of the delegates reported there have been threats made, but there was no evidence to corroborate their statements."

Obi-Wan knew of those threats, and took them seriously, even given the lack of evidence. "It's better to be prepared Captain," he said.

"I agree." They reached their destination. The Captain bowed slightly. "I'll leave you here, Jedi Kenobi. I must continue my inspection of the station."

"Thank you, Captain." Obi-Wan returned the bow and set himself up just outside the conference room where he could greet the delegates as they arrived. 

*~*~*

It wasn't long before the delegates showed up, in pairs or bigger groups. With the increasing number of trade representatives on the station, the chatter of the Security Force increased. Obi-Wan used the Force to filter through the noise on the earpiece to pick out the important words and still be able to concentrate on what the arriving delegates were saying. 

For a standard hour, the apprentice greeted the delegates and exchanged mental comments with his Master; pointing out the representatives that had received the threatening messages. 

Once the last of the delegates arrived, Obi-Wan sealed the doors to the conference room and positioned himself in front of it. The volume of the headset was turned down, now that the Padawan didn't have to split his attentions. He listened to the chatter over the earpiece, and stretched his senses with the Force to detect anything amiss. 

Obi-Wan had been guarding the conference room for just over four hours when the niggling feeling that kept him awake the night before returned, stronger than before. He was moving to alert the Security Forces when chaos erupted over the headset and in the hall in front of the Padawan.

*~*~*

The lights in the hallway went out, plunging the Padawan into darkness at the same time the chatter in his ear abruptly ceased. He searched through the Force for a cause, any disturbance, but didn't sense anything amiss. He could feel his Master trying to grab his attention, but he pulled away from the call, to focus on the problem without a word to Qui-Gon.

A blaster bolt whizzed out of the darkness, impacting Obi-Wan's unexpecting right shoulder. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as the flesh and muscles were burned and destroyed. His mental shields dropped a little, allowing Qui-Gon to sense his pain.

//Padawan!?//

Obi-Wan blocked as much pain as he could. //I'm okay// He could still hear his Master's voice in his head, but he ignored it as vague shapes materialized in the darkness. Another blaster bolt emerged from the darkness, barely missing the Padawan's head.

"Kenobi to Security Force," he whispered into the microphone of his headset. There was no response. Jammed The vague shapes became more definitive. A mish mash group of humans and aliens lined the hallway. Blurring his presence within the Force, Obi-Wan drew back into a darker corner as the group spread out to investigate various rooms, looking for the conference he thought.

//Master// he sent. //The station has been boarded. I can't get a read on them// He pulled his lightsaber from his belt with his left hand, trying to keep his injured right shoulder from being jostled too much. //The Security comm is jammed. I'm going down there, to call for reinforcements//

//Be careful, Ben//

Obi-Wan heard/felt the reluctance in his Master's voice at letting him go, but they both knew there was no other option. He could hear the booted footsteps of the advancing men, but still couldn't sense them. He felt the presence of the conference room dim, as Qui-Gon erected a Force shield around it. They probably have a Force sensitive, if they are in some kind of bubble Obi-Wan thought.

He tucked his saber up the sleeve of his cloak, so the metal wouldn't be seen reflecting off anything like a stray blaster bolt, and pulled up his hood. Having memorized the station's layout as part of his pre-mission research, he crept down the hallway to a service corridor tucked away in an obscure corner.

*~*~*

The boarders have good intel Obi-Wan thought as he made his way down the levels to the main security office. There were few sentries posed on the floors Obi-Wan ghosted. All of them were very well shielded, so he could get no reading on who they were, or why they were there. He made it to the office without being noticed.

Obi-Wan allowed himself to feel a wave of anger and despair roll through him. All the Security personnel had been killed, and the equipment destroyed.

//Obi-Wan?//

The apprentice relayed his findings to Qui-Gon. //I'm going to try for our quarters// The aging station creaked and the floor under Obi-Wan rumbled ominously. //There's a secured comm there//

//There must be something closer// Qui-Gon protested. They had both studied the station's layout.

Obi-Wan was already moving. //It's the best option. They probably won't have anyone up on the residential level// He caught a flash of a vision, something that happened often in stressful situations. He had a talent for short-term precognition, which frustrated his Master and earned the Padawan many lectures on "staying focused on the here and now". A quick glimpse of a ceiling coming down, and it was gone.

Pushing the vision to the back of his mind, he retraced his steps to the lift that would take him to the residential levels of the station. There were no maintenance tubes that had access to the residential levels from where he was. He cradled his right arm to his chest; the sharp pain from the initial impact of the blaster shot had faded, reduced to a dull ache he couldn't completely block as he stretched his senses and abilities to the max. Even Jedi can only compartmentalize so far he thought as the offending wound twinged.

Obi-Wan reached the lift and discovered that the boarders had not just cut the lights, but all the station's power. Plan B? he asked himself sarcastically. Way to think things through, Kenobi

A burst of confidence and love washed through the bond. He'd apparently let his control slip; Qui-Gon had sensed his self-deprecating thoughts. Rather than waste precious energy chastising himself for the lapse in control, he made himself focus. There were no guards posted in the area that he could see or sense. The problem was that he couldn't sense if there were any guards on the next level. 

He retrieved his saber from his sleeve and attached it to his belt, noting it would be and awkward reach for it on his left side with his left hand. Keeping wary eyes sharp for the invaders he couldn't sense, he pulled his dagger from the ankle sheath he kept it in. He'd only recently begun carrying it again, the memories of the last time it had been drawn, when he was 14, a little to painful to bear, even after 6 years of healing. 

His sleeves slipped up his arm and he spared a glance at the scars that served as a reminder of that painful event as he wedged the dagger into the seam of the lift doors. Using the brut strength borne out of an adrenaline rush and years of training he pried the lift doors open, and groaned aloud at another miscalculation.

He hadn't spared the time to think about it, but the Zarthians, the beings that had constructed and maintained the station, were tall beings. One of Master Qui-Gon's height was considered a runt. He was going to have to jump from handhold to foothold and pull himself along. With a sigh, he replaced the dagger and started up the lift shaft.

*~*~*

Using sheer will and the Force, Obi-Wan clung to the handhold with his right hand and reached for his dagger with the left. He almost dropped the dagger when he scrabbled for the handhold as the station trembled again, threatening to knock him from his precarious perch. 

He sighed once the quaking stopped. Again, the flash of vision played through his mind, and once more, he ignored it. Inching closer to the door, he took up a position that would allow him to prise the doors open from the inside without a lot of leverage.

He inserted the dagger point in the seam of the doors, but didn't push. Stretching his senses to the max, he searched for any sign that someone was in the hallway. No unfamiliar sounds graced his ears, and he hadn't expected to sense anyone on the level.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan balanced himself once more on his right hand and with all his strength, forced the doors open. He jumped off the footholds and rolled onto the floor cradling his injured shoulder—and came face to face with the muzzle of a blaster. He looked up, and up, into the face of a huge Wookie. His lightsaber suddenly seemed very far away on his belt.

The Wookie roared something Obi-Wan translated to "get up you piece of scum".

Pushing himself up with his left hand, neatly concealing his dagger in his sleeve, he climbed slowly to his feet. He cradled his right arm, with the hand near his waist, more obviously, trying to give the impression the limb was completely useless, which isn't far from the truth he thought.

The blaster's aim never wavered from the Padawan as the Wookie bound Obi-Wan's left hand to his belt. With a very strong suggestion that almost drained what little energy he had left, Obi-Wan was able to persuade the creature to leave the saber attached to his belt.

Pushed forward, Obi-Wan was sent walking down the hallway, the blaster mere inches from his back. Fortunately, they were headed in the direction of Obi-Wan's quarters. A few steps from his door, he struck.

Moving his hand slowly, he stopped when his fingertips brushed the cold metal of the saber. Steeling himself against the pain, in one swift move he grabbed the saber off his belt, ignighted it, and swiftly cut the Wookie in half across the waist. The pieces fell to the floor with a thud, and Obi-Wan nearly collapsed.

//Obi-Wan?//

//Sokay// he slurred. //Had to deal with something big and ugly// He thumbed the power on his saber to a lower level and forced himself to block the pain as the cut the cord that bound his left hand to his belt. He sagged against the wall to catch his breath. 

With the power out on the station, it was beginning to cool, but Obi-Wan was bathed in sweat, and trembling. Can't stop he thought. Won't get moving again He received an influx of energy from his Master, and felt a little better. Some of the shaking subsided, and he sent a silent thanks to Qui-Gon. Still, he leaned on the wall, for just a moment.

Another shudder of the station urged him to action. //I have a bad feeling about this, Master// He sent the recurring vision he'd been having over their bond.

//I as well. Hurry, Ben. The station is old, and I fear it won't withstand a more persistent attack//

Obi-Wan agreed wholeheartedly.

*~*~*

I'm gonna have to replace the blade after this Obi-Wan thought as he once again pried a set of doors open with his dagger. Lacking the strength and energy to do so, the Padawan didn't bother opening the doors all the way. He'd opened them just a crack, enough for his slim frame to fit through sideways.

The view of the planet and broken moon out the window was breathtaking without the station lights to mar it. Obi-Wan drank in the sight for just a moment, then made his way to the comm in the corner.

He all but fell into the waiting chair and a brief flash of worry went through his mind that he wouldn't be able to get up again. Shaking his head somewhat to clear his mind, he studied the panel before him. Without power, how could he send a message? Only one solution presented itself, and he didn't think his Master would approve.

//Hotwire it// his Master's voice sounded in his head.

//What?// Obi-Wan sent back, not believing his Master would suggest what he thought the man was suggesting. //How?//

//Ben, surely you can figure out something as simple as re-wiring a console to run off your saber's power pack?//

Qui-Gon's voice was a bit condescending, but had an underlying humor to it. Obi-Wan's skills with mechanics was somewhat of a joke between the two of them, especially since Qui-Gon had the opposite of skill. 

Obi-Wan wasn't about to admit he'd already discounted that idea. But since he suggested it, I can't possibly get in trouble for it? 

//Master, at this point I don't think I could figure out how to open a bottle of muja fruit juice// but his hands, well hand, was already fumbling at the commconsole's rear panel, trying to find the quickest way to jerryrig it.

Ten minutes of fumbling with his left hand and he had it. //I told you that there would be a reason you were glad I had taken our comm apart// he shot at his Master, remembering a day when he was 15 and good enough to take it apart, but not to put it back together again. His words were growing slower and more slurred.

//Brat// Obi-Wan sensed the concern in the older man's voice.

Obi-Wan turned the comm on, and was pleased to see the screen light up. He sent a broad band message into local space, hoping a passing ship would pick it up. He had no time to scan for a friendly vessel; the boarders were probably monitoring carefully for any message traffic. Sparing another moment, the Apprentice dashed a quick message to Coruscant and the Council.

//Well done, Obi-Wan// Qui-Gon's voice was back in his head.

Obi-Wan slowly, one handedly pulled the rigged comm apart and restored it to its normal condition. His sluggish thoughts were torn over his next course of action. The Force was screaming at him to return to his Master's side, and quickly. But all he wanted to do was rest, his body protesting any further movement and abuse. Carefully, but as rapidly as fumbling fatigued fingers would allow, he put his saber back together and attached it to his belt.

Drawing on the Force to keep going, Obi-Wan retraced his steps to the lift tube he'd climbed up. He had a sinking feeling that going down would be no easier than coming up had been.

The doors remained open, a yawning blackness behind them. Taking another precious moment, Obi-Wan paused to find his center, let the Force flow through him with the knowledge he'd be able to sleep for a week when it was all over. Qui-Gon's voice was there, but he didn't hear it. He was focused on getting back to where he needed to be.

He nerves somewhat calmed, he shoulder alternating between a dull ache and steady throb, he crawled back into the lift shaft. His right harm had stiffened, so he was forced to make the journey one handed. Standing on a foothold, he squatted, grabbing the hold with his left hand, then let his toes slip from their hold while he hung for a moment, then released, letting his feet seek out their next purchase. He blocked Qui-Gon from his mind, not needing the distraction of the man's worry.

He'd gone 3 "steps" when the station started its violent convulsions once more.

Obi-Wan had just released a hold and scrabbled for purchase when he realized what was happening, but none were within reach. His feet slipped off the too brief contact they'd had with something solid and the Padawan found himself hanging in the air. He used the Force to slow his rapid descent, but it wasn't enough. With a thud that knocked the air from his lungs Obi-Wan landed on his back on top of a lift 6 levels down from where he had started. With a sickening crack, his head bounced of the metal and Obi-Wan finally gave in to the darkness.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan's eyes opened as he ended his story. "That's all I remember," he apologized to the Masters. His eyes turned to his Master's, wanting to know what happened after he lost consciousness.

"The boarders left the station soon after the third set of tremors. They never found the conference, thanks to your running around opening doors, and the shield I was able to keep up," Qui-Gon answered Obi-Wan's questioning gaze. "A ship carrying another Jedi team passed through the system and picked up your transmission and was able to board and evacuate most of the delegates from the station before it collapsed. I was looking for you when it finally did. I got most of the way under cover, but my leg was caught." 

Qui-Gon paused and continued more quietly. "The other Jedi found you a few hours later in the lift tube. There was debris piled on top of you. If the fall that knocked you out didn't cause the injuries, then the falling pieces of station most certainly did." 

Obi-Wan nodded, hearing the fear in his Master's voice. Fear at not finding him in time. Qui-Gon didn't say these things out loud, but he didn't have to.

Obi-Wan took his Master's hand, his eyes drooping. The story had taken awhile to tell, and he was exhausted. 

"Do you have a sense of who the attackers were?" Monroe asked, taking no notice of Obi-Wan's condition.

"They were raiders," Obi-Wan said. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, calling up the specific memory of the attackers, the sense he'd gotten off the Wookie as he killed him. "They were paid to attack the conference, to exact as much damage possible without killing anyone." His voice grew weaker though his accent grew thicker, betraying his exhaustion.

"Do you know—" Monroe started but Lida cut him off.

"That's enough for today, Master Monroe. Obi-Wan needs to rest. Come back tomorrow," she ordered. The healer injected a light painkiller and Obi-Wan gave a small, tight nod of thanks. She led the Masters to the door.

"A word, Qui-Gon," Yoda beckoned his former apprentice out into the hallway. Mace and Monroe continued out of the ward to attend other business.

"Another attack, there has been," Yoda informed Qui-Gon quietly.

"The same raiders?" Qui-Gon wasn't really surprised.

"Believe so, the Senate does. No investigation, there is at this time."

Qui-Gon snorted. Bureaucracy. The Senate wouldn't do anything until it felt good and ready. Despite his professional and personal friendship with Supreme Chancellor Valorum, Qui-Gon didn't have much faith in the governing body of the Republic. 

"Thank you, for telling me, Master." Qui-Gon bowed, and ducked back into Obi-Wan's room.

*~*~*

"Please, Lida. I want to go home," Obi-Wan almost whined at the Master Healer.

Lida schooled her features to neutral, though her eyes danced with barely suppressed humor. "You shouldn't whine, Obi-Wan. It's unbecoming."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He just wanted to go home. He didn't hurt anymore, except for his shoulder when he moved the wrong way. His physical therapy was underway, and had been for two days. "I promise I'll behave. I'll come back everyday if you want me to, just let me GO HOME!"

Lida smiled. It had been three days since Obi-Wan reported to the Council from his bed in the ward, and it was two days longer in the ward than necessary. The healer wanted to make sure everything was well and truly healed, and she wasn't above a little good-natured torturing of the Padawan. 

"You will come back, every day, right before your PT," Lida said, still grinning. "If you don't, I will sic the entire female initiate population after you, then you'll be begging to be let back in here."

Obi-Wan blushed slightly. It was well known that most of the women in residence at the Temple, and probably some of the men, had incredibly huge crushes on the Padawan. They younger initiates were just a little more vocal about it in public than some of the more restrained older Temple residents. "Yes, Healer Lida," he answered in a monotone voice, but with a smile. 

"You are a brat, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Lida said in response. "Should I call Qui-Gon, or can you make it back to your quarters okay?"

Obi-Wan reached out along their bond. "Master Qui-Gon is in a meeting. If I wait for him, I could be here another week," he joked. "I think I can make it back myself."

Lida nodded as she made a note on a pad. "Okay, you're cleared to go. And I know you never listen, but I hope I don't see you around here again for awhile."

"Lida, without me around, what would you do to keep busy?" Obi-Wan asked as he shrugged into his cloak.

"Obi-Wan, I don't think I've ever had time to think about it. You're never really gone all that much," she answered, her green eyes twinkling.

"Well," Obi-Wan said on his way out the door, "if you ever do get bored, you know where to find me."

"I never have time to be bored Kenobi. Not with you and your Master back in residence," she shouted down the hallway through her laughter, happy to see the boy go once again.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan sighed a long grateful sigh as the hot water pounded into his back. Physical therapists are torturers he decided as his shoulder twinged while reaching for the shampoo. Knowing the pain was a good sign, he used his right arm as much as he could, with the therapists okay.

Relaxing under the shower's spray, Obi-Wan felt his muscles loosen up. He'd spent the first two hours of the morning in classes, then had a "light" workout with Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan snorted as he recalled his Master's definition of light. The healers had allowed him to bump up his activity level from quarter speed only katas, to allowing him to do all katas at half speed, and the lowest level ones at full speed. So Qui-Gon had run them through the first five katas at full speed, twice.

Obi-Wan then had to drag himself to Lida's torture chamber, for his semi-daily looksee. She declared everything was progressing well, and told the Padawan he could reduce his visits to once a week. Obi-Wan whooped for joy, just to tease the Master Healer, and ducked just in time to avoid being smacked in the back of the head with a Force-flying bedpan. Guess part of her Healers oath went unheeded Obi-Wan thought as he ducked out of Lida's territory into the P.T. rooms.

He spent a grueling hour with the therapists, and had almost been reduced to tears from the pain and exhaustion. The exercises were designed to help rebuild muscle tissue and regain full movement in his arm. Obi-Wan knew that and worked as hard as he could. But to hear the therapists say "one more time" over and over while his shoulder burned in painful agony had been almost too much. He still wasn't fully recovered, and overwork made his chest ache from breathing too hard. Had he not been shielding, Qui-Gon would have been at his side in an instant with the thoughts and emotions roiling thought him.

But Qui-Gon was in a meeting somewhere in the Temple, so Obi-Wan had to drag himself back to his quarters. He all but fell into the shower, and proceeded to feel better as the hot water melted away the muscle strain.

Rinsing down, fairly certain he didn't stink anymore, Obi-Wan turned the shower off, and wrapped himself in a large towel and went in search of clean clothes. Finding only the rattiest of tunics and leggings clean, he pulled them on, knowing he didn't have to be anywhere for the rest of the day or evening. He toweled his hair dry, rebraided the symbol of his Padawan rank, and padded barefoot into the common room.

It was still early afternoon, so Obi-Wan settled in on the couch with a data pad, determined to catch up on the galactic news before starting the evening meal. He scrolled through the top stories on the network, reading various stories of import to the Jedi in general, or some new technological development that interested him personally. 

Obi-Wan's eyelids began to droop, and he was ready to set the pad aside and give in to the beckon call of sleep when a headline caught his eye. Instantly alert, he selected the article. *Raiders target another conference. Third in two standard weeks.* Obi-Wan read the article slowly.

It seemed the same group that had attacked the conference at Dermimia was attacking various conferences throughout the Republic. The conferences had nothing to do with each other as far as Obi-Wan could tell. The second attack had been on an Intergalactic Botany Convention, and the latest on an Interstellar Scientific Research Presentation conference. The only thing the last two attacks had in common was the loss of innocent life. Thanks to Obi-Wan's intervention, no lives at been lost at Dermimia Prime, except for almost his own.

Obi-Wan pondered the ties of the three attacks, but couldn't make much sense of the lack of a pattern. He shortly gave up when his thoughts started working in circles, and he fell asleep on the couch, the pad still clutched in his hand.

*~*~*

Qui-Gon paused just inside his and Obi-Wan's shared quarters. Obi-Wan lay stretched out on the couch, barefoot, apparently in his last set of clean clothes, given their rather raggedy state, and snoring softly. His left arm draped over the edge of the couch, a pad lying on the floor where it had fallen from the boy's relaxed hand.

Walking softly, Qui-Gon crossed the common room and knelt at the sleeping Padawan's side. He picked up the pad to place it on the table and took at quick look at what the boy had been studying.

He sighed as the headline greeted him. I should have known that he would stumble into it sooner or later The master had spent his afternoon in a meeting with Yoda and Mace, discussing the most recent attacks.

The Senate had finally begun an investigation, and expected to hear from Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan within the next couple days. Qui-Gon had tentatively proposed an independent Jedi investigation, but only in passing.

He set the pad aside and debated waking his Padawan. The last weeks had been tough on both of them, though Qui-Gon was faring better than his apprentice; his limp was barely noticeable, and he was free from reliance on the cane. Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan was pushing himself through his recovery; the young man's exhaustion had been almost palpable over their shared evening meals. Reviewing their morning workout, the master felt a brief stab of guilt at the realization that Obi-Wan wasn't the only one pushing his recovery. But the boy hadn't protested, so he hadn't given the heavy drilling a second thought.

"Oh, Ben," Qui-Gon sighed as a memory surfaced from earlier in the day. "Why didn't you say something?" During his meeting, Qui-Gon had felt a brief surge of something from his Padawan, but it was gone, suppressed behind shields before it could be identified, and he'd promptly forgotten about it. Only upon reflection did he realize his Padawan had been shielding overwhelming pain and exhaustion.

Deciding to let the sleeping apprentice stay that way, he pressed a light kiss to the boy's forehead and placed his dangling arm on the slowly rising and falling chest. The apprentice stirred and mumbled incoherently, but didn't wake. Qui-Gon smiled at the typical reaction from a sleeping Obi-Wan, and Force pushed him back into a restful sleep so he wouldn't wake further.

Obi-Wan sighed softly in his sleep as the suggestion washed through him.

Satisfied his Padawan was resting well, Qui-Gon rose from the floor and made his way to the kitchen to start the evening meal. 

*~*~*

//Mmm// Obi-Wan sent over the bond as he woke slowly to the smells and sounds of Qui-Gon moving around the kitchen preparing the evening meal. //I thought it was my turn to cook?// he asked sleepily, though he was becoming more awake.

"Sounds like you needed the sleep, Ben." Qui-Gon emerged with two mugs of soup in one hand and a plate of bread and cheese in the other.

"I think so too," Obi-Wan said around a jaw-popping yawn as he accepted the steaming mug. He scooted over on the couch so Qui-Gon could join him. The two men ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, until the mugs were empty, the last dregs sopped up with bread.

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan place his empty mug on the low table with his left hand; the apprentice's right arm appeared to have stiffened during his nap. Qui-Gon noticed the brief wince on his Padawan's face as the boy tried to move his shoulder to loosen it up.

"Let me help you with that, Ben," he said, gesturing to the floor at his feet with an empty hand after setting his mug aside. He saw reluctance war with relief on Obi-Wan's face before he settled on the floor in front of Qui-Gon.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said quietly as Qui-Gon's skilled fingers worked to relax the muscles, sparing as much pain as possible. Obi-Wan gasped when the fingers hit a particularly tender spot, and Qui-Gon sent healing energy to the spot with a mental apology.

"Why push yourself so hard, Ben?" The relaxing massage continued across tense shoulders, working out knots Obi-Wan hadn't even been aware of.

Obi-Wan mumbled something Qui-Gon couldn't quite make out. He smiled—he thought they'd worked past most of his Padawan's self-confidence issues, but apparently he was mistaken.

"Obi-Wan?" he said with gentle admonishment.

"Trying to keep up with you," the Padawan answered, barely above a whisper.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon sighed, but was cut off before he could continue.

"You're recovering so quickly, and I know the Council must be ready to send us back out, and,"

"Ben, stop," Qui-Gon ordered gently. His fingers had stopped their massage and he exerted gently pressure on Obi-Wan's shoulders to turn him around. Once he was looking into the gray-blue eyes, he continued.

"First of all, the Council is letting us take all the time we need to recover. We've been on mission after mission without a stop for quite a long time, and they've decided we've earned a break. Besides, it seems the universe is in a relative state of peace right now." 

Obi-Wan smiled a little at their private joke. Anytime they were allowed to rest, Qui-Gon claimed it was because all was quiet in the Republic. As he grew older, he began to appreciate the time to recover before they burned themselves out completely.

"Second, and most important," Qui-Gon continued, "is that everyone heals at their own rate. I was injured much less severely than you. I had the benefit of some self-healing on the trip back, but you were unconscious most of the way, and in no position to heal yourself when you weren't. Pushing yourself to keep up with me isn't the way to go—you're only going to prolong your recovery by over taxing yourself."

"I know, Master," Obi-Wan sighed. "I just want to be healthy again."

Qui-Gon slid off the couch to pull Obi-Wan into his arms. The exhausted young man allowed himself to be comforted by that warm embrace and relaxed into the arms that held him.

"I want to see you well again too, Ben. But working yourself to exhaustion isn't the way to make yourself healthy."

"You're not helping with that you know." The good humor was evident in the Padawan's sleepy voice. "I mean, did we *really* need to run all five katas at full speed, twice?"

"Probably not," Qui-Gon answered with equal good humor before becoming serious again. "If you insist on shielding from me and not telling me when I've pushed too far,"

"I know," Obi-Wan broke in. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be afraid to tell me when you hit your limits, Padawan. There will be times when you'll have to exceed those limits, but those times are in training, to discover how far you *can* push those limits, or in situations where you can't afford to stop. Recovering from injury is not one of those times. However, if you insist on finding and pushing your limits, I'm sure I can come up with some training exercises once you are fully healed," Qui-Gon trailed off with a smile.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, returning Qui-Gon's smile. "I don't think I need any more of those exercises Master. Climbing through lift tubes made for beings twice my height with a blaster destroyed shoulder gives me more than a good idea of what my limits are," he said with the dry humor Qui-Gon appreciated so much.

"You are a brat," Qui-Gon said, but he was relieved to hear Obi-Wan joke about the situation that made this conversation necessary.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan repeated, this time around a yawn.

"And I think that's the cue to call it a night," Qui-Gon responded to the yawn, and the sense of exhaustion that still emanated from his apprentice.

"Hmm," Obi-Wan mumbled, already letting his mind shut down, safe in his Master's embrace. "Oh, wait," he said, waking up just a bit. "Master Monroe commed for you earlier today. Something about a conference with the Senate, and my progress reports." Obi-Wan shrugged. "The message should still be there, in the archive I think, if you want to view it."

"Thank you, Padawan. I'll take a look. I think you should get some rest."

"Meditation then bed," Obi-Wan agreed, extricating himself from Qui-Gon's arms. "G'night, Master."

"Rest well, Ben." Qui-Gon sent him off to his room as he seated himself in front of the comm to see what it was Master Monroe wanted of him.

*~*~*

{Master Jinn—

{You and your apprentice have been summoned before the Senate in regards to the latest attacks by the raiders that allegedly attacked the conference at Dermimia Prime. I should like to meet with you both to discuss your testimony. On a side note, I notice that you have not yet turned in Obi-Wan's third quarter evaluations. Please get these in as soon as possible, or the status of both you and your apprentice will be re-evaluated.

{Please contact me at your earliest convenience.

{Master R. Monroe}

Qui-Gon sat back in the chair at the comm station and rubbed a hand across his weary face. Of course I haven't turned in my apprentice's third quarter evaluations yet. I haven't had the opportunity 

Senior Padawans nearing their trials were evaluated on a quarterly basis. Depending on the Master, and how often the pair was in residence at the Temple, the reports could be delayed without an effect on either's record. Apparently Qui-Gon thought Monroe has decided that our being in residence this time means I have to have it done the day the quarter ends 

Qui-Gon had been planing to write the report the next day, during the time he usually used to do his paperwork. His own recovery had left him no less tired than his apprentice, and it had taken him this long to get through his backlog of mission reports and correspondence. He sighed. 

Robert Monroe had no idea what it meant to be a Master; he used the title only because he was a senior member of the Council, and had been for more than 50 years. When he was Knighted at age 20, the Padawan of a senior Council member and thus trained for the job, he had been offered a life seat on the Jedi's governing body. There had been only one Padawan Monroe had wanted to take, and Yoda had had something to say about that.

Any Padawan Monroe might have taken would have their training focused on preparing them for the duties of working within a bureaucracy that was the Council. According to Temple gossip, which Qui-Gon had confirmed by speaking with the meddling troll himself, Yoda had been approached by Monroe concerning Obi-Wan when the boy was nearing his twelfth birthday. Monroe announced his decision to take the boy as his apprentice, and to train him to be a Councilor. Yoda denied him his request, claiming the Force had other plans for young Obi-Wan, and that he was not available to be apprenticed, that the boy wasn't ready. A year later, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were thrown together on the way to Bandomeer, and Monroe saw it as a vast conspiracy.

Which it was Qui-Gon thought. Against us both Yoda had known that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon belonged together, and waited until the time was right to act on that knowledge. His meddling only deepened a rift that had long been present between Monroe and Qui-Gon. 

Qui-Gon couldn't remember what it was that had started the conflict between the two, especially since they weren't age, class, or crèche mates. Monroe was at least 20 years older than Qui-Gon, and except for a few odd occasions before Qui-Gon had been Knighted, they'd never exchanged more than a few words in passing. Maybe it was that mission to Egats?

Yoda had still been on the active roster for field duty when he'd taken Qui-Gon, a gawky eleven year old, as his Padawan learner. Human initiates were chosen for apprenticeship from anytime after they reached their tenth year, to their thirteenth; Qui-Gon was chosen five months shy of his twelfth birthday, but Robert Monroe had thought it too early, and made his protests known to Yoda and the Council before the training bond was formally forged. The Council overrid the young Councilor's protests, and the matter was dropped. 

Qui-Gon had been 17 when they'd been sent to Egats. Knight Monroe had accompanied them. The mission itself was simple—oversee the signing of the peace treaty between the Sriach and the Dnats, two rival tribes that wanted their treaty overseen by the Guardians of Peace to ensure it's mutual satisfaction. Yoda had Monroe to tag along even given his lack of combat training. Monroe had claimed a need to establish contacts in the greater galaxy. Qui-Gon hadn't quite understood the point of starting those contacts on a small backwater, but hadn't voiced his confusion.

There was to be a week long celebration and last minute negotiations leading up to the final ratification of the peace treaty. Two days into the proceedings, Yoda became seriously ill with a local virus and, unable to continue, had turned his duties over to his Padawan, seconding Monroe to an apprentice two decades his younger. Qui-Gon had done an exemplary job handling the responsibilities, much to Monroe's dismay. 

Despite Qui-Gon's success, Monroe hadn't relished being the assistant to a Padawan. 

And apparently hasn't been able to get over it Qui-Gon thought as the memories of that mission faded, to be replaced with ones of the days shortly before his Knighting. 

Monroe had protested Yoda's pronouncement of his intentions to give Qui-Gon his trials. At 22, he would hardly be the Order's youngest knight, but Qui-Gon got the feeling Monroe was somehow threatened by him. A proven diplomat while still a Padawan, the Council, to which his Master had been recently named, saw the bright future of the young man, and knew there was a need for his skills. An hour long Council meeting where Qui-Gon had been ordered to cool his heels in the anteroom, Monroe was forced to see reason, and he'd been admitted to receive the terms of his trials.

Qui-Gon sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. In a few years when he announced his Padawan's trials, there was no doubt in Qui-Gon's mind that Monroe would make some sort of similar claim. Especially given the circumstances under which the man hadn't been allowed to take Obi-Wan as his own apprentice.

Qui-Gon let his thoughts turn inward in impromptu meditation. Yes he thought. It seems that Monroe is always trying to find ways to separate us. Could he really feel that threatened by fellow Jedi The threat of re-evaluation if Obi-Wan's reviews weren't completed was only semi-serious. Monroe hadn't resisted Qui-Gon's official declaration of Padawanship of Obi-Wan, but had tried to get them separated for long periods of time over the years that followed.

Shortly after Obi-Wan's recovery from a suicide attempt that finally drew Master and Padawan closer together, Monroe had tried to split them up, saying Obi-Wan needed time away from Qui-Gon to recover. Thanks to Lida's testimony, as well as Healer Bob's (now retired back on his native Earth), the Council overruled Monroe's claim and the pair had been sent off on two years of back to back missions. 

It seems that every time we're back in residence, Monroe tries to hatch a new scheme to see us forced apart. But why? What about us is so threatening to him. I know why I might be one, but Ben?

It was well known throughout the order that Master Jinn followed his own path and that his Padawan followed him, but never blindly. The pair had gotten into heated discussions in the dining hall too many times for it to be believed that Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon blindly and that he had none of his own thoughts on the Code. Perhaps that's *why* he feels threatened? Qui-Gon realized. Neither of us is willing to conform without objection

Obi-Wan may not share my beliefs Qui-Gon thought, but he shares the principles that let is form our own He sighed again, and dashed a quick reply to Monroe informing him that he would have Obi-Wan's progress reports no later than the end of the week. He cleaned up the remains of their dinner and turned off the lights.

Checking to see that Obi-Wan was resting comfortably, the Master retired to his own room where he fell asleep almost immediately upon making contact with the pillow.

*~*~*

The next evening, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan relaxed over their individual studies. Qui-Gon poured over past mission reports written by both Obi-Wan and himself; he was pooling the information to put together his Padawan's third quarter report. Every once and awhile, he made a note on the pad he was reading from. He noticed Obi-Wan do the same when he looked up briefly.

"What are you working on, Ben?" he asked when the younger man's brow furrowed—in concentration or frustration Qui-Gon wasn't sure.

"Yesterday afternoon, before I fell asleep, I stumbled across the reports of two other attacks by the raiders. I've been trying to determine if there's a connection between all the conferences." Obi-Wan frowned. "It's not going well."

"What have you found so far?"

"Nothing relevant." Obi-Wan sighed. "Is there an investigation going?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "We are to give a report to the Senate to aid the investigators with any knowledge we might have."

"When, Master?"

"In the next couple days I would think, Padawan," Qui-Gon answered. His brief conversation with Monroe earlier in the day hadn't given him a clear answer. "We are to remain in residence until the investigative committee calls us to testify."

Obi-Wan didn't respond. Probably trying to figure how much research he can get put together in the next few days Qui-Gon thought.

"Master, why isn't there an independent Jedi team investigating? The lack of information available is what's so difficult about trying to connect the seemingly random attacks."

It wasn't unusual for the Jedi to aid the Senate or other authorities in investigating crimes and such throughout the Republic; especially when an event directly involved Jedi.

"I asked Mace and Yoda about it a few days ago. There simply aren't any field teams available now," he explained. Indeed, there were far more Jedi in residence at the Temple that there had been in Qui-Gon's recent past stays. "Many of the Senior Padawans are preparing for or taking exams, and too many of the Knights are running the ragged edge of exhaustion and burn out."

"Humph," Obi-Wan snorted. "Burn out's never been an issue before. I don't think I remember the last time we had more than a day between missions that wasn't spent traveling to the next mission."

"I know Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon responded. The Council had been running most of the field teams into the ground lately. More teams, and individual Knights, were coming back to the Temple to recover from injuries, much like he and Obi-Wan had done. Too much time on the fraying edge of exhaustion made recoveries longer from injuries that might otherwise have been preventable.

"We could request it," Obi-Wan said softly, breaking into Qui-Gon's thoughts.

"Ben?"

"Request the investigation," Obi-Wan stated. "Surely the Council would grant it to us."

Qui-Gon was pretty much healed; no limp remained and only the occasional twinge of pain reminded him of his recovery, but Obi-Wan still had a way to go. In truth, Qui-Gon had considered asking for the mission for himself, then sending for Obi-Wan when he was fully healed. Too much of a delay in beginning an investigation would leave them with few leads to follow.

"Are you sure you're ready, Ben?" If Obi-Wan felt he was ready, Qui-Gon was prepared to go before the Council and request the assignment.

Obi-Wan nodded. "There is still some basic work that needs to be done here to start the investigation before we can even leave the Temple to pursue any leads. I can finish my recovery during that time. And we should probably have most of the groundwork done before we go before the Council."

It was apparent that Obi-Wan had put at least some thought into it.

"Keep at your research and recovery, Ben, but don't neglect your class work. I'll set up a meeting with Yoda and Mace to discuss the likelihood of getting the assignment."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied, and both men turned back to their respective reading.

*~*~*

A week later, Qui-Gon was ready to speak with Yoda and Mace about taking on the investigation. Obi-Wan had made much progress in his recovery and was back to almost full mobility in his shoulder. There was still little evidence in the investigation, even after having reported to the Senate. Obi-Wan had been able to make a few connections, and it was a start, but they really needed access to everything the Senate Investigative Committee had, and that would take a formal declaration by the Council of them being on the investigation. That Qui-Gon thought as he made his way to Yoda's quarters or letting Obi-Wan hack into the database

Qui-Gon announced his presence at his Master's quarters with a buzz on the door panel. The door slid open and he entered to find Yoda seated in his favored chair and Mace sitting in one of the places reserved for guests scaled to a different size than the wise Master.

"Wanted to see us, you did?" Yoda asked, waving Qui-Gon to a chair similar to the one Mace occupied.

"Yes, Master." Qui-Gon nodded to Mace in greeting as he took his seat. 

Mace nodded in return and handed Qui-Gon a cup of tea. "What's with the private meeting?"

Qui-Gon took a sip of his Master's special blend of tea. "Obi-Wan and I would like to request the investigation into the attacks on the conferences over the past weeks."

"Again, why not come before the Council with this request?" Mace asked. 

"We intend to," Qui-Gon explained. "But I wanted to talk with you first, to present what evidence we have, and to discover the feasibility of actually getting the assignment before going before the Council in its entirety." 

Yoda nodded. "What evidence have you?"

Qui-Gon pulled a data pad from his cloak. Obi-Wan had made copies of all his research and loaded it on his Master's pad. "Obi-Wan has taken it upon himself to do most of the early groundwork. This is what he has discovered so far, and though slim, I think it's enough for us to pursue."

"Stalling you are," Yoda chided, "get on with it you shall."

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon answered, turning his attention to the pad in his hands. "The attacks occurred roughly six standard days apart, in the same sector, but on seemingly random conferences. The first was at Dermimia Prime, at the Trade Consortium's meeting they have about every ten years to discuss routes, tariffs, rules, etcetera. The second attack was on the Intergalactic Botany Convention on Rugelus V. The most recent raid was on the Interstellar Scientific Research Presentation Convention at Morna Station. All the attacks were on stations, above unpopulated planets. That is the most obvious connection." Qui-Gon paused to sip at his tea.

"And the less obvious?" Mace prompted.

"One of the representatives at the Trade Consortium's conference was Telikis Noore, a member of the Board of Trustees for Monticaore, a small company that manufactures scientific equipment. Monticaore was a minor sponsor of the two other conferences that were attacked."

"Hmm," Yoda interrupted. "Interesting this is. More do you have?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, Master. There were seven people, including Noore, who were at all three conferences. So far, my apprentice's research hasn't found any connection between these seven people except that they were at all three raids." 

"Has Obi-Wan any knowledge of Noore's current location?" Mace asked, leaning slightly forward in his chair.

Qui-Gon scrolled down the pad. "Yes," he said, finding the data he wanted. "Noore is en route to the Healers Convention on Dlesgau, that starts today."

"Our own healers we have going there," Yoda added. "Healer Lida, and her apprentice among them, they are."

"Perhaps is would be wise to get a message to them," Mace suggested, following the logic of Qui-Gon's brief presentation.

A brief burst of terror floated across the bond he shared with Obi-Wan. "Excuse me a moment," he said before turning his attention to his Padawan.

//Obi-Wan?//

There was a slight hesitation before the familiar mental voice responded. //Master?//

//What happened, Ben?//

//A vision, I think// Obi-Wan responded slowly. //Different from most I have//

Qui-Gon knew of his apprentice's precognitive abilities. Usually they tended to be short term, immediate future things. //How so?//

//It was distant, and I wasn't there. Another attack perhaps// He paused. //I think I need to meditate on it, and it will become clear//

//Do that, Obi-Wan. We'll talk later//

//Yes, Master//

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan slip into a meditative state to try to work out the images from his vision.

"Something has happened?" Mace asked when Qui-Gon became refocused on the conversation.

"Obi-Wan had a vision, different from those he's used to." Qui-Gon himself didn't have much of a talent with touching the future; his connection to the Living Force pushed his talents in a different direction. "He's in meditation now, trying to make sense of it."

"Hmm," Yoda said again. "Bring this before the Council you should."

Mace nodded his agreement. "I don't think there will be much disapproval. Your evidence is well put together, and we need to get to the bottom of this, lest there be any more attacks."

"Make room for you in tomorrow's session, we will." Yoda said.

"Thank you, Master, Mace," Qui-Gon rose, bowed slightly, and let himself out of his former home to head to his current home and help his apprentice deal with the disturbing vision.

*~*~*

Qui-Gon arrived home from his afternoon meeting with Mace and Yoda to find Obi-Wan deep in meditation, trying to find answers to the earlier terrifying vision. Deciding to wait for him to come out of it naturally rather than bring him out of it before he was ready, Qui-Gon sat at the comm to catch up on his messages.

When the hour for evening meal approached, Qui-Gon briefly considered easing Obi-Wan out of his trance, but decided against it. If his Padawan needed the time, Qui-Gon would let him have it. He fixed a meal for them both, and put a covered plate in the cooler for Obi-Wan to eat later in the evening.

When he was finished with his solitary meal, Qui-Gon left a note for Obi-Wan on the table. He had a meeting with other Masters with senior Padawans; after every quarterly review the Masters got together and discussed their apprentices' progress. Qui-Gon didn't enjoy them, but went while he was able. Satisfied Obi-Wan was still meditating, he took himself off to the meeting.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan came out of his meditation slowly, and with no more answers than he'd had going in. The details of the vision were murky. Flashes of light, some colors, and nothing more. That he was resting at home when it happened was odd; his precognitive abilities mostly were short-term seeings that happened in stressful situations.

How can I have been dealing with visions for years, but I can't shake this one? Obi-Wan questioned himself. It was disturbing to the Padawan that the vision didn't make any sense.

Obi-Wan's stomach growled. A glance at the chronometer told the young man he'd been in meditation most of the afternoon and with nothing to show for it he thought. 

Not bothering to pull on a tunic or boots, Obi-Wan padded barefoot in leggings only to the kitchen, finding no sign of his Master in the common room or the kitchen. He found a note on the table, from Qui-Gon.

{Ben,

{You meditated straight through dinner and I didn't want to disturb you. I left a plate for you in the cooler; a few minutes in the warmer is all it needs.

{I had a meeting with a few other Masters—you might not want to wait up.}

Obi-Wan smiled. He knew those meetings with other Masters were nothing more than gossip sessions, brag fests, and complaint parties that his Master didn't enjoy, but couldn't get out of. And they have a nasty habit of running late into the evening once all the Masters have had their chance to vent

Obi-Wan found the plate in the cooling unit and popped it into the warmer. While he waited for the timer to sound, he wandered into the common room to check his messages. He found a short one from Bant. They'd made it to the Healer's Convention on Dlesgau and had gotten settled in. 

{I'm really looking forward to some of the presentations, Obi} Bant wrote. {Someone is giving one on new advances in bacta usage that will be particularly interesting, especially for when you're around.}

Obi-Wan smiled at that. Bant loved to tease him about his proclivity for ending up under her Master's care, whenever she wasn't fussing over him being in Lida's care. He dashed off a quick note wishing her a good time and bidding her to take advantage of all the free samples so he could re-stock his utility belt. He shut down the mail program as the timer sounded his meal's readiness.

He settled himself at the table to eat his reheated meal, thankful that Qui-Gon had prepared it for him so he didn't have to. He ate his meal slowly, still pondering over the troubling vision that still didn't make much sense. 

When he finished, he cleaned up, washing his plate and putting it away. Something about his vision was niggling at him, lurking just at the front of his brain, like an idea that had yet to be fully realized. It was important, he knew, but just couldn't pin it down. 

Intending to read to maybe help clear his mind so he could re-focus, Obi-Wan stretched out on the couch with a holo-novel he'd been meaning to read for some time; Bant had recommended it one of the last times he'd been in the healer's, but not well enough to do anything but sleep. He got through a chapter before he fell asleep. 

*~*~*

Qui-Gon was listening to Master Ka'tye rant about the antics of her Padawan when his comlink chirped. "Excuse me," he said to the other Masters and stepped away from the group, hoping it was Obi-Wan on the other end and could provide him with an escape from the tedious conversation. "Jinn here," he answered the persistent chirping.

"Qui-Gon this is Mace," a familiar voice responded. "We need you to come to the Council Chambers at once."

Qui-Gon was already moving out the door of the lounge where the Masters had met up. "What's happened?"

"There's been another attack," Mace answered.

"Where," Qui-Gon prompted, suddenly having a very bad feeling.

"Dlesgau."

Qui-Gon wanted to ask after the Healers they had on station for the conference, but knew that Mace wouldn't give any vital information over a comlink where it could be heard by anyone he passed in the halls. "Understood," he said and thumbed off the comlink, tucking it back in his belt where it belonged.

He felt the need to contact Obi-Wan, but a check of their bond proved the boy was asleep. I hope he ate Qui-Gon thought as he rounded the last bend that would lead to the Council chambers. 

"Master Jinn," Monroe greeted him as he stepped into the chambers.

"Monroe," he greeted in return with a bow to all the assembled Masters.

"Sometime earlier today, best estimates put the time around 1400 hours Coruscant time," Adi Gallia reported, "The Healer's Convention on Dlesgau was attacked by the same raiders responsible for the Dermimia and subsequent raids. Eye witness testimony is still coming in, but analyzing what we have so far," she paused. "It appears that the Jedi we had on station as our representatives were specifically targeted."

A soft murmur went through the Council Chambers at that statement.

"And the condition of our healers?" Mace asked, breaking through the din.

"Healers Darrel and Listaln are fine, suffering only minor injuries. Master Healer Lida is in critical condition and being rushed back to the Temple and should be arriving later tonight. Padawan Bant,"

When Adi paused, Qui-Gon knew that his apprentice's best friend was dead.

"Healer Apprentice Bant," she repeated, "died in the confrontation, protecting innocents and her Master, who was unconscious at the time."

The resounding silence in the Council Chambers was palpable. Losing a Padawan was a terrible event, to the Master, and to the Order in general. 

Qui-Gon broke the silence after a moment. "My Masters," he started. "Please excuse me. I must see to my Padawan. Master Gallia?"

Adi looked up to meet Qui-Gon's gaze. 

"Would you please forward the reports to me, at your earliest convenience?"

A quick glance at Yoda and Mace, who nodded ever so slightly, and "Yes, Master Jinn. You will have what I have within the hour, and copies of the rest as they come in."

"Thank you," he bowed, and let himself out of the Council Chambers to head home, to tell his Padawan that his best friend was dead. 

*~*~*

Obi-Wan woke to the sounds of his Master moving around in the kitchen making tea. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the apprentice sat up as Qui-Gon entered with two cups. Obi-Wan took the cup, and glanced at a nearby chrono as Qui-Gon took a seat in a chair opposite the couch Obi-Wan occupied. It was earlier than he expected his Master home.

"Master?" Implied in the question was 'what's happened?'. 

Qui-Gon took a sip from his cup, as if to prepare himself. "There's been another attack."

Obi-Wan nodded. It wasn't really unexpected, after all. Given the time line he'd established in his research, he figured they were due for another. "Where?"

"Dlesgau."

The hesitation was slight but it was there. His Master never hesitated about anything. He delivered good news and bad with equal calm and serenity. But—"Bant and Lida are on Dlesgau."

Qui-Gon nodded without meeting his gaze.

"Are they alright?" Obi-Wan prompted, beginning to feel the slightest hint of exasperation, and the first tendrils of something being wrong.

"Lida is on her way back to the Temple in critical condition, but the Healers with her assure the Council she will be fine, eventually." Qui-Gon sipped from his tea again before looking up and meeting Obi-Wan's eyes at last. "Bant did not survive the attack."

With those six words, clarity dawned. He shared a link with Bant, a tenuous one formed in friendship and stretched over the years of separation and reunions when they could be worked out, but it was still there. His vision hadn't been the future he was seeing, it was the present. He had seen the attack as it happened. During the stress of the battle, Bant must have reached out to him unconsciously, sharing the impressions she could. 

His mind drifted to the message he'd received. The time stamp showed it was received at the Temple at 1348. She'd sent it just minutes before the attack. 

"Obi-Wan?" 

A large callused hand on his bare shoulder brought him back to reality. Qui-Gon's comforting presence had moved to sit next to him on the couch.

"I saw it happen," Obi-Wan responded softly. "My vision—we were linked somehow." The pieces slid together in his mind until he had a clear picture. He had seen Bant's last moments. He wasn't able to be with her in person, but he'd been there, somehow. It was comfort, a small comfort indeed, but a bit of relief to believe that maybe his friend hadn't been completely alone when she'd died. 

"Was she alone?" Obi-Wan asked quietly. He knew that Qui-Gon wouldn't lie to him.

"No, Ben." Qui-Gon comforted. "Lida was unconscious at the time, but there were others with her. And you were linked, so even unconsciously, your presence would have been a great comfort to her."

Obi-Wan knew that, but wanted to hear it, have the words drive away some of the pain of not being there. His friend was a healer, not a warrior. She wasn't supposed to die in the field, in battle. All Jedi were trained to wield a lightsaber to some extent, to defend themselves, and Bant had been working with him to advance her training, so he had no doubt she'd gone down fighting. But he always expected to be the first to go, as a warrior diplomat, thrown into more hazardous situations in his first twenty years than he could sometimes remember. 

"Are they going to call you—when Lida arrives?" Obi-Wan asked, suddenly wanting to get away from the subject, until he could have some time to himself, to work his mind around the fact that his best friend since childhood was dead. 

"I hope so."

"Will you come get me when they do? I want to see her, but I need some time—" Obi-Wan placed his cup on the table next to the discarded reader, anxious to escape before his emotions caught up with him. The initial shock had worn off, leaving him with an empty, hollow feeling, one that echoed with his guilt. Deep down, he knew the guilt was misplaced, but he clung to it, to keep him going until he could be alone to sort out everything. He knew he needn't be embarrassed with his Master, but desperately wanted some time alone. 

"I understand, Ben. I'm here, if you need anything," Qui-Gon responded, all to familiar with the pains of losing a friend.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said gratefully, and fled to his room.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan managed to make it to his bed before collapsing in on himself. A small holo of him and Bant rested next to the one of him and his Master Lida'd given them for Solstice a few years earlier. He picked it up, and rested it on his knees, pulled up tight against his chest. 

The holo had been taken at the annual Padawan retreat, which had been held shortly before Obi-Wan's eighteenth birthday, and his promotion to a Padawan of senior standing. Obi-Wan and Bant had gone on the retreat with about 30 other Padawans, but Obi-Wan was the senior, and so, by default, in charge. And of course, nothing had gone as planned. The Masters had turned them loose on Dantooine, home of a secondary Temple that was used by those needing a stronger connection to the Living Force than the city-planet of Coruscant could provide. The local Temple supplied them with the items they would need for a week of wilderness survival, then turned them loose. 

The retreat was a much a training exercise as an opportunity to bond with peers. Each Padawan was responsible for a report, and they were judged on how well they worked together as a team. It was supposed to be easy enough; they were well outfitted for a week of survival. Until a freak storm came up.

The group had been trekking to the campsite that was pre-selected by the Masters, so they could be found in case of any emergency. A freak snowstorm rose during the hike, disorienting the Padawan's and caused many to abandon their supplies in the blizzard like conditions. Obi-Wan had gotten everyone settled inside some caves they stumbled across and tried to hold the group together. 

By the second night, he knew he was in over his head. Bant had the only medical kit, and more than half of the Padawans managed to come down with some virus that they'd been exposed to on the three day trip from Coruscant to Dantooine. After the snow stopped, he decided rather than risk all of them trekking out to the campsite, he sent three of the still healthy Padawans back to the Temple to make contact with their Masters. By the time they returned, Masters in tow, Bant and Obi-Wan had been the only ones left un-infected, and bone wearily tired. 

Able to sleep for the first time in a week, they'd curled up together on the shuttle back to Coruscant and stayed that way for the whole voyage. Obi-Wan suspected that Lida had taken the picture, as she'd come to claim the horde of ill apprentices, and always carried a camera in one pocket. 

The best friends had re-built their friendship on that trip. There hadn't been much time to get together in recent years, and though it wasn't exactly a happy trip, they'd grown much closer over a shared pot of melted snow serving as cooling water to help reduce fevers.

It wasn't long after the celebration of his promotion that he and Qui-Gon had been sent off planet, not to return until after the incident at Dermimia. The holo had shown up under his bedroom door the morning they left, and had traveled with Obi-Wan, in his small pack, alongside spare socks, a clean tunic, and other bare necessities ever since.

He traced over her image with light strokes as the first tears began to fall. He rested his head on his drawn up knees and let them fall, willing the cold emptiness inside him to be filled with grief, despair, anything but the chilling numbness. As the tears fell, he opened himself to the Force, achieving a light meditative state even during his emotional catharsis.

One by one, images of all his fondest moments with Bant filtered past, with the occasional not so fond memory thrown in by the Force for good measure. A food fight in the mess hall. Their punishment for starting it. Her sitting at his bedside telling stories to keep him company when he couldn't leave the infirmary. The plotting of their Master's birthdays. Him sitting at her bedside the one time he hadn't pulled a blow during a sparring session. The images came and he welcomed them, knowing they would always be within reach.

He felt a comforting presence around him, and a familiar voice sounded in his head.

//The Masters were right, Obi. The ones who came before really are here to greet you.//

Obi-Wan smiled. When he'd come out of his coma a few years before, he'd told Bant how he'd figured he wasn't dead yet. Provided the Masters that *are* alive are right, I knew I wasn't dead because there weren't any Jedi there to greet me

//I'll be here to greet you too, when it's your time. Don't grieve for me too long; Master Qui-Gon needs you. When you see my Master, tell her I love her. And don't forget, love you I do. With you, I'll always be//

"I know," he whispered as the mental touch eased away. Bant would never truly be gone so long as she was remembered. And he knew they would meet again in the Force. Someday. 

A tentative knock on his door caused Obi-Wan to raise his head from where it rested atop his knees. "Yes, Master?" he called as he wiped some of the moisture from his face. 

Qui-Gon stepped through the door and made his way to the chair at Obi-Wan's bedside. "Lida's arrived. The healers with her say she's been asking for you."

"For me? Why?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I don't know, Ben. But if you're ready, we can go down to the ward now. They are expecting us."

Obi-Wan nodded, and uncurled himself in preparation to make for the fresher and clean up a bit. He swiped at his eyes once more before standing. Qui-Gon caught his wrist after a step.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Qui-Gon asked softly. "It can wait until tomorrow."

"I'm sure," Obi-Wan assured him with a small smile. "Bant asked me to deliver a message."

Qui-Gon nodded and let him go. "You might want to put a shirt on, Ben. I hear the nine-year-old initiates are coming back from an all day excursion. It wouldn't do for you to greet Lida from a bed after you'd been attacked by a bunch of obsessed girls, would it?"

Obi-Wan blushed. "Yes, Master," he responded, and set about finding a clean tunic before heading down to the infirmary.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan left his Master in the infirmary's waiting room to talk to Yoda and Mace while he went in to see Lida. The healer had been upgraded from critical to serious condition after her arrival at the Temple and a once over by her colleagues. 

At her own request, according to the Healers that had greeted Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, Lida had been placed in the general ward rather than a private room. Obi-Wan had the sneaking suspicion that the Master Healer wanted to be able to keep an eye on *her* ward while she was confined there. The Healer Obi-Wan had talked to, Darrel, he thought, had advised them that although Lida had been upgraded, she was still pretty weak.

Obi-Wan's personal physician, that's how he seemed to think of Lida at times, had taken a blaster shot to the stomach, followed closely by a blow to the head from a blunt object that had knocked her unconscious and given her a light concussion. Obi-Wan was puzzled as to why, with her injuries, she wasn't in a bacta tank, and the healers had explained she had spent the entire trip, and some time before hand in bacta, and they wanted to evaluate her further, before doing another treatment, if it was necessary.

Quietly, in case she was sleeping, Obi-Wan made his way to the Healer's bed. Her head turned as he approached. Her waist long red hair was matted and gluey looking, the parts that the apprentice could see she wasn't laying on, from the bacta treatment she'd been removed from not long before. When he took the seat next to her bed, her head lifted just a bit, and without thinking, he gently tugged the red mess from underneath her, and twisted it so it lay over her shoulder.

"Thank you," she said with a small smile, lowering her head back to the pillows. "No one seems to remember the fact that laying on my hair is quite uncomfortable."

"Yes," Obi-Wan nodded. "I have had several exchanges with Master Qui-Gon when he wakes up in infirmaries in a similar state." Qui-Gon's hair, falling to mid-back, tended to get ignored by healers across the galaxy, except of course, for Lida, causing much grumbling when he woke, unable to move, trapped by his own hair. 

Lida's hand groped for his, and he took it. "Are you okay, Obi-Wan?" she asked softly.

Obi-Wan almost laughed the incongruity of the question. "I'm fine, you're the one that was shot in the stomach with a blaster," he said dryly.

She smiled. "Don't remind me." The smile disappeared. "Really, Obi-Wan, how are you?"

Obi-Wan realized once again why this woman was such a wonderful healer. Even though she had to be hurting herself, she was looking out for the well being of others. "I'll be fine," he assured her.

"It's all right to grieve, Obi-Wan," she said. "It's normal."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I know, but I've made my peace, I think, for the most part." He surprised himself with the answer, even as he knew there was truth behind the words.

"She came to you, didn't she?" Lida asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.

"Yes," he answered just as softly. "And she asked me to tell you that she loves you, and waits for you on the other side."

Lida turned away from him, but not before Obi-Wan saw the tears form in her eyes. Gently, he turned her face back to his. "And will you let yourself grieve, Healer?" he asked with concern.

"It doesn't seem real yet," Lida admitted in a rough whisper, somewhat reluctantly Obi-Wan thought. "I don't know if it's because I was unconscious, or the drugs, but it hasn't quite settled yet."

Obi-Wan had a feeling that the drugs that were keeping away the pain of the regeneration of tissues from the blaster wound were also preventing the Master from realizing the pain of the broken training bond she'd shared with Bant. 

"I'm sure you know the painkillers are keeping you from feeling the broken bond," Obi-Wan explained patiently to the Healer, who he felt knew the words, but needed them said. "It will all seem much more clear when the pain becomes real again, but that doesn't mean you can't grieve now."

"Everyone expects me to grieve long and hard, because my best friend died today," Obi-Wan said after taking a breath. "But you lost someone more than that. You lost a young person in which you trust your life everyday, in whom you entrust your legacy, your knowledge. Bant was close to me, yes, but she was also close to you, in the ways that Qui-Gon and I are close. She was a part of you, in your mind through the bond, and in your heart and soul because you are a wonderful Master, and a compassionate soul. She will not be here," he tapped her forehead lightly, "in a few days, when the drugs aren't needed anymore. But she will always be here," he placed a hand on the Healers chest, over her heart, "as long as you remember and love her. There is no reason you shouldn't be allowed the grieving time that you would so graciously give me, if not more." Obi-Wan stopped talking as he ran out of things to say.

"When did you get so smart, Kenobi?" Lida asked through tears that had started when Obi-Wan had spoke.

"Master Qui-Gon has told me I soak up things like a sponge. I guess I've been spending enough time in here to pick up on a few things," he said lightly, as he wiped away some of the older woman's tears.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome, Lida. And you know where to find me, or Master Qui-Gon, if you need someone to talk to." He pulled the blankets up around her. "Now," he smiled. "I know how testy healers get when their patients don't follow orders, and I'm pretty sure you have standing ones to rest."

Lida nodded, not protesting as her eyes fell closed. It wasn't long before her breathing evened out, and she was deeply asleep.

Once Lida had fallen asleep, Obi-Wan carefully pushed her bed a little ways from the wall the head of it rested against. Taking a brush from the pocket of his cloak, he pulled Lida's mane of hair over the back of the bed where it almost touched the floor. With long gentle strokes of borne out of much experience, he brushed the goo out of her red hair. As he often did for Qui-Gon when his Master was confined to bed for periods at a time, and when he himself was able, Obi-Wan twisted the curtain of hair into a secure plait that wouldn't come undone as the healer slept, and would keep it from transforming once again into a tangled mess. 

Finished with his self appointed task, he reaffixed the bed to it's original position and retook his seat, watching over the healer as she had done for him, and waiting for his Master to return from his conversation with Mace and Yoda.

*~*~*

Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan disappear into the main ward where Lida was resting before turning his attention fully to Mace and Yoda. The Councilors had awaited his arrival at the infirmary to get a report on Lida's status.

"How is Obi-Wan?" Mace asked, as they settled in the none to comfortable chairs of the waiting room after the Healer finished his report.

"He says he's okay, and I believe him," Qui-Gon answered. 

"Sent these for you, Adi Gallia did," Yoda said, handing over a stack of data pads. "Contain the eyewitness reports, they do."

"Thank you, Master," Qui-Gon tucked them away in his robe.

"What do you intend, Qui-Gon?" Mace asked softly.

"It is still my intention to come before the Council as scheduled and ask for this investigation," he explained. "If there is evidence that this was indeed a deliberate attack on the Jedi Healers, it needs to be investigated by the Jedi. We can not rely on the Senate to track these raiders down."

"And if the Council will not grant you this investigation?" Mace asked.

"Do you have to ask, old friend?" Qui-Gon knew exactly what needed to be done, and he would do it.

"And what of Obi-Wan?" Yoda spoke up. "Share your motivation, he does, but your opinion?"

Qui-Gon thought for a moment. "He suggested we pursue this investigation, Master. I trust Obi-Wan to do what he feels is right, as he should trust in me. I will speak with him, before we meet with the Council."

"Hmm," Yoda mused, but said nothing more. He climbed out of the chair, and hobbled to the door. "Before the Council, you will come. Do all that we can, we will." And he was out the door, leaving Mace and Qui-Gon staring at each other.

"I swear my Master gets more cryptic every passing year," Qui-Gon said as he slumped back in the chair. He rubbed at his face, attempting to scrub away the weariness. "I may need a favor, old friend."

"You may need several, before this is over," Mace observed. "You know where to find me, Qui-Gon. I share your views, this time," he smiled, "but I'm concerned that there are those on the Council that will not be swayed, even after this attack on our own people."

"And that's why I may need your help," Qui-Gon said.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan sat at the kitchen table, beginning to pour over the information coming in from Dlesgau. Qui-Gon moved around the small kitchen preparing chafé, a darker, more caffeinated beverage than the tea they usually drank and so better suited the late night research they were doing. While the chafé was brewing in the seldom used machine—Obi-Wan was the only one that drank it more than occasionally but didn't often brew it himself—Qui-Gon pulled some fruit and cheese from the cooler, noting that the plate he had left for Obi-Wan was gone.

Qui-Gon sat a mug just to Obi-Wan's right before doctoring his own with milk and sweetener. He took a chair opposite his apprentice after bringing over the tray to which he'd added bread to the fruit and cheese.

"What have you found so far, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan had only been studying the reports for the brief time it had Qui-Gon to brew the chafé. He'd skimmed through the first several, finding them to be consistent.

"It appears Master," Obi-Wan said after a few sips of chafé, "that the initial speculations were true—our healers were specifically targeted."

"Can you piece together what happened?"

Obi-Wan nodded, and picked a few pads out of the dozen laying in front of him. "Based on the reports of Healers Darrel and Listaln, and some of the eyewitnesses I think I can put together a pretty clear picture."

Qui-Gon waited patiently while Obi-Wan read through the reports he'd selected, both men sipping at their warm beverages, and availing themselves of the snack Qui-Gon had set out. Sometime later, Obi-Wan rose to refill his mug and stretch, and sat himself back at the table.

"Okay," Obi-Wan said. "I think I have it. According to Darrel and Listaln, our Healers were attending a presentation on the regenerative properties of Caiolel, a mucus like substance produced by the natives of Caoille. There was brief break in the middle of the session, and Bant stayed while the others went in search of beverages and freshers, saying she needed to get a note off to me."

Obi-Wan paused for a moment, taking a few sips of his chafé before continuing. "Darrel and Listaln both say that Lida waited for drinks, tea for the knights and a local type of chafé for Bant, while the others used the fresher. Darrel reports he felt a brief disturbance in the Force, but when he tried to search it out, it was gone."

"Was it the same Force-bubble we encountered on Dermimia?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Hmm," Obi-Wan mumbled and shrugged, mouth full of chafé. "It's possible," he answered after swallowing. "There was a report, by a," he searched through his pads, "a Jambery someone," he shrugged again. "She says that there was a leader to the group as the marched through the station. The face was obscured by a dark cloak, and she never caught more than a glimpse, but she felt that individual was clearly in the lead."

Qui-Gon rose to refill both his and Obi-Wan's mugs and nodded for Obi-Wan to continue.

"When Darrel and Listaln caught back up to Lida, the saw the advancing raiders, moving swiftly through the station. Listaln reports that the Healers on station gave them clearance, not getting in their way, even though it was fairly obvious, she thought, that they didn't belong. Darrel reports they came straight for them, as if knowing exactly where they were."

"It's possible they did," Qui-Gon mused. "If they had a Force-sensitive with them, he or she, knowing they were on station, could have just searched out their unique Force signatures and located them amongst the non-sensitives attending the conference."

Obi-Wan continued. "Listaln and Darrel, along with some other reports we have, say that our healers were surrounded by a group of aliens, a mixed group, and that blasters were aimed at them. All reports say they asked where the fourth was. They knew exactly who was attending the conference, they asked for Bant by name, Listaln reports. Darrel thinks Lida must have gotten word to Bant through their bond because he saw her lurking around the fringes of those looking on. That's odd," Obi-Wan interrupted himself.

"What?" Qui-Gon asked.

"The raiders never made any effort to move any of the non-Jedi away from the conflict, or to get our people out of the public eye. Poor planning?" Obi-Wan met his Master's gaze.

"Or they were hoping to get in and get out again. Keep going, Ben," Qui-Gon said as he made a note on his own pad.

"Lida told the leader that Bant had been left at home, having come down with some virus," Obi-Wan said, reading off one of the pads. "But the leader either sensed Lida's deception or sensed Bant, and shot her. When she didn't pass out right away, Listaln says she was hit in the back of the head with the butt of the blaster that shot her."

Obi-Wan paused again. "Here's where things start to get a little fuzzy," he said after draining his mug once more. Qui-Gon refilled it again as he continued. 

"Darrel says the next thing he realized after the blaster was Bant charging through, her lightsaber ignighted, but not attacking. She positioned herself in front of her Master, and Listaln, who was kneeling next to her, trying to help. Then, he reports, shooting started. Bant did her best to defend them all, Listaln was still with Lida and Darrel was tending to someone who had caught a stray blast. Darrel looked up in time to see Bant hit," he paused for a breath, "she was hit in the head, from behind. By the time he got to her, she was already gone."

Qui-Gon reached across the table to grasp his Padawan's hand, lending quiet support. Obi-Wan looked up briefly, and flashed a small smile. 

"After that, the raiders retreated, leaving no trace of where they came from. Lida was lucky enough, I suppose, to have been injured not far from where a demonstration was going on the advancement of bacta, and that healer was attracted by the blaster fire, and after the retreat, rushed in and helped get Lida stabilized enough to get her on a transport. Healers Listaln and Darrel were unharmed."

Qui-Gon sat for a few moments, absorbing what he'd just heard when Obi-Wan rose from his place at the table to pace. 

"How does this fit in with the rest of that attacks?" Obi-Wan asked, taking his mug to the sink, trading it for a glass of ice water.

"Well," Qui-Gon said. "We know that Telikis Noore is somehow involved in all the conferences that were attacked, but Jedi were only present at two of the four."

"Hmm," Obi-Wan thought aloud, eyes drooping despite the amount of stimulant he'd ingested. "I wonder if there were supposed to be Jedi dispatched to the other conferences that were attacked."

It wasn't an odd thought. Not all Jedi were meant to be warrior/diplomats, and many chose a more scholarly route. Many became teachers within the Temple; others got involved in research with the backing of the Temple that would benefit the greater galaxy,

"I'll be right back, Ben. Let me check something." Qui-Gon rose, and strode out to the common room. 

A quarter of an hour and some quick archive searching and Qui-Gon was back at the kitchen table where it appeared that Obi-Wan had fallen nodded off over a pad.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan jerked awake.

"Wha-?" he grinned sheepishly as he realized what had happened. "I seem to be falling asleep over my reading a lot lately."

"It's all right, Ben. It's late—or rather, early," Qui-Gon soothed.

"What'd you find?" Obi-Wan asked, scrubbing his hands over his lightly stubbled chin.

"You had a good idea. Master Fly'nya was scheduled to go to the Intergalactic Botany Convention, but complications in her pregnancy, or rather, her mates pregnancy, forced her to change her plans at the last moment and remain here at her husband's side. There was no one to replace her, so the Jedi didn't send a representative.

"There was also a group headed by Master Kurtal and Knight Evon scheduled to attend the Interstellar Scientific Research Presentation Convention, but hyperdrive trouble diverted and delayed them sufficiently to miss the Convention."

"Is it possible that all the attacks were undertaken because there was a Jedi presence, or supposed to be, at each location?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

"It is possible. The travels of the researchers aren't classified, and in fact, they were probably on the list of confirmed attendees. And those lists," Qui-Gon said, "are easily attainable, to the right people, for the right price." 

Obi-Wan nodded while trying to stifle another yawn. 

Qui-Gon glanced at a nearby chrono. Their Council meeting was only a few short hours away. "I think we should both try to get some sleep, Ben."

"Good idea, Master. It's been a long day." Obi-Wan rose from the table, leaving his pads scattered over its surface.

Qui-Gon turned the lights down behind them as they made their way to their respective bedrooms.

"Master," Obi-Wan said from his doorway. "What if the Council decides for some reason not to give us this mission?"

Despite the lateness of the hour, Qui-Gon had been expecting the question. "I am prepared to do what I think I must. You must be similarly prepared. This is one of those times, where what you think is right, may outweigh the orders you are given."

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said, and ducked into his bedroom.

Even with the caffeine they had consumed that evening, both men were asleep almost immediately.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan crept out of his quarters and padded down the hall to the lift that would take him to the level of the Healers Ward. He left a note for Qui-Gon, telling the older man he would meet up with him at the Council Chambers.

Though he had fallen asleep quickly after adjourning from the late night research, he was awake again a short time later, unable to explain why. Even after meditation he'd been restless and not able to reclaim the blessed oblivion of sleep. Finally relenting, the apprentice changed out of his semi-slept in clothes, not having bothered to change into sleep pants before collapsing into bed, and pulled on fresh ones before heading down to the Healers.

With the ease of long practice sneaking into the ward, Obi-Wan slipped past the Healer on duty to make his way to Lida's side. Not bothering to illuminate the room, he walked carefully thought the darkness to the empty chair next to Lida's bed. 

When he sat, the Master Healer stirred, undoubtedly sensing the presence next to her. Obi-Wan sat silently for a few seconds, not really wanting to wake the injured woman, but wanting to speak with her all the same. His intentions had been to speak softly, hoping that somehow, his words would get through. He didn't want to force her back to sleep if she was waking naturally, but he wasn't sure she should be awake.

Green eyes fluttered open during the apprentice's hesitation, making Obi-Wan's decision for him.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Lida whispered hoarsely after a moment, probably after figuring out the Force-sense of whoever was at her bedside.

"I could ask you the same question," he evaded. "I couldn't sleep. Besides, we have a Council meeting in a couple hours, and the few hours of sleep I would've gotten won't matter much."

Though her face remained neutral as it so often did, schooled not to show response, Lida's eyes flashed a look somewhere between polite inquisition and demanding to know why the two most frequent visitors to her domain couldn't get themselves to bed at a decent hour. At least, that's how Obi-Wan interpreted her look.

"We were up late, going over the new information coming in from Dlesgau. Master Qui-Gon and I are asking the Council tomorrow—well, today actually," he corrected himself with a grim smile, "if we can have the investigation."

"I didn't know there was and *official* investigation." Lida said.

"There isn't one yet," Obi-Wan conceded. "I've been doing some quiet digging, trying to put pieces together so that we, the Jedi, can make an attempt to stop these raids."

*And* her green eyes prompted.

"It looks like someone maybe targeting Jedi," he whispered, though he wasn't sure why he had whispered. The ward was empty save him and Lida, and the healer on duty was doing paperwork in the office. It must have been the gravity of the situation that made him dramatic. "If this is so, something needs to be done before they are any more successful. A Senate investigation won't be enough. There are too many people in the Republic that don't understand what the Jedi are about, and if they find out we may be being targeted, they won't care, and demand the Senate to stop wasting it's time on an Order that has proven capable of taking care of itself." 

Obi-Wan realized he was rambling, but didn't care, much. It was Lida he was talking to, after all.

"You don't think the Council might decide the two of you are too close to this one?"

Lida's question brought him back around to the beginning of the conversation. "I've thought about it," Obi-Wan admitted. "But they'll have to counter that with the knowledge that I have faced them once already, and I know what I'm getting myself into."

Lida nodded, but her eyes reflected that she remained unconvinced.

Obi-Wan took her hand. "This isn't something we've rushed into, Qui-Gon and I. We started this almost as soon as you finally let me out of this place. The only reason I'm any more determined now that I was before is the knowledge that if I had done something sooner, this may have been prevented." He gestured with his free hand towards her abdomen.

"I'm prepared to do whatever I need to do to make sure these attacks don't persist. There are other reasons, which I have accepted and released, but that cannot be ignored. But my goal is to stop the attacks from happening," he finished.

Neither of them had to say what his other motivation factors were. Bant's death weighed heavily on both of their souls, especially in the dark twilight of the predawn.

"I'm sorry Obi-Wan," Lida said. "I never meant for you to have to justify yourself to me. Sometimes I forget you're no longer the scared 14 year old boy wanting only the barest hint of his Master's approval."

Obi-Wan blushed slightly.

"I just want to make sure you know what you're doing. Bant wouldn't-" she paused, then continued slowly. "Bant wouldn't want you to avenge her, most definitely at the risk of something you've worked all your life for."

"I know," Obi-Wan whispered. "And I'm really hoping it won't come to that."

Lida nodded and yawned, even the brief conversation sapping her reserves.

"Get some rest," Obi-Wan said. "I'll come see you before we leave."

Lida nodded again and closed her eyes, asleep again almost immediately.

Obi-Wan waited until she was fully asleep, then took himself off to the refectory for some chafé and breakfast to get him through the morning. 

*~*~*

Qui-Gon groaned as he turned off his softly bleeping alarm. Surely it had only been *four minutes* instead of the four hours he'd planned to sleep. But his internal clock, no matter how exhausted, agreed with the alarm, that it was indeed four hours later, and only one hour remained until the meeting with the Council.

He sat on the edge of the bed and stretched his long frame, feeling only slightly rested from the brief nap. Well he consoled himself you can catch a nap after the meeting A pad propped up on his nightstand caught his attention as he twisted his head about to try to loosen the muscles in his neck.

{Master;

{I'll meet up with you at Council Chambers. There's something I needed to take care of this morning.

{OWK}

Qui-Gon shrugged mentally. It must've been something especially important to his apprentice for him to have risen early on his own after so little sleep. A check of their bond showed nothing amiss, so he headed off to the kitchen to prepare more chafé, though his stomach did not relish the thought of any more of that particular beverage. The caffeine was needed, to get him through his meeting, and then he could sleep the rest of the day.

The chafé brewing, he made his way to the fresher to make himself presentable.

*~*~*

Qui-Gon arrived at the anteroom to the Council Chambers to find Obi-Wan sitting on a bench, patiently waiting for him. To the Master's eyes, his apprentice seemed more at peace with himself that had the night before.

"Obi-Wan," he greeted when he took the seat next to him.

Obi-Wan looked up from his notes. "Master."

"Surely you have those all memorized by now?" he teased lightly.

"Just making sure I didn't miss anything," Obi-Wan answered.

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond, when a Padawan stepped into the small waiting room.

"The Council is ready for you," she reported.

"Thank you," Qui-Gon rose, and Obi-Wan was right behind him.

"Masters," they bowed to the Council together as they stood side by side in the middle of the high cielinged room. 

"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, you have requested this audience with the Council," Monroe said, establishing that he was essentially in charge of this meeting.

"Yes, my Masters," Qui-Gon said. "We have come before you today, to request permission to pursue the raiders responsible for the attacks on four stations, and to bring the raiders to justice."

Obi-Wan continued. "We have some evidence that shows that it is a very likely possibility that someone is targeting Jedi."

A soft murmur ran though the chambers at that revelation.

"Please explain, Padawan Kenobi," Adi Gallia said.

"There were Jedi scheduled to attend all four conferences. Master Jinn and I, to the trade negotiations, Master Fly'nya to the Botany convention, Master Kurtal and Knight Evon along with others to the Research presentation convention, and then our healers to Dlesgau. Fortunately, the Jedi reported to be attending those other two conventions were delayed, or unable to attend."

"Is this the only evidence you present?" Monroe asked Obi-Wan.

"No, Master. There is a man, Telikis Noore, who was someway involved in all the conferences that were attacked. Our attempts to contact him have failed thus far," Obi-Wan spelled out for the Masters present.

"How confident are you in the accuracy of the data you've collected, Padawan?" Monroe asked.

"Very, Master. All the information we have came through Master Gallia's own sources, or from eyewitnesses, corroborated by our own healers that were present at the last attack." 

"And you think this is sufficient to pursue an investigation with the full backing of Temple resources?" 

Obi-Wan wasn't sure where Monroe was going with his questions. "Yes, Master," he said earnestly. "If we don't pursue these leads, they will vanish, and we might never have a better opportunity to bring these attacks to a stop.

"Jedi have died and been severely injured. The evidence is in place supporting the theory that we may be being targeted. Someone needs to find out why, and put a stop to it," Obi-Wan continued.

"And why should it be you, Padawan?" Monroe asked when Obi-Wan paused for breath.

"Because we have faced these attackers before. Because we are prepared, through research and prior experience, and know better than some other team what to expect." Obi-Wan pumped as much conviction into his voice as he could. He was becoming gradually concerned that none of the other Masters were saying anything.

"You have no other motivations, Padawan?" Monroe asked, deceptively quiet.

Qui-Gon realized where this was going. Monroe was going to use Obi-Wan's friendship with Bant to turn their argument.

"No, Master," Obi-Wan answered honestly.

"Padawan Bant was your friend, was she not? You were critically injured by the raiders the last time you faced them. You expect us to believe that your motivations are purely looking out for the good of the Order? That there is no thought of revenge?" Monroe turned on the apprentice.

"No, Master. I mean," Obi-Wan struggled to wrap his tongue around his thoughts. "Yes, Bant was my friend, and yes, I was injured. But, my motivations *are* to protect the Order. I have come to terms with my friend's death, and now I only seek to keep other deaths from happening."

"Very well," Monroe said. "I ask that you wait outside, while the Council decides."

"Thank you, Masters," Qui-Gon said, and with a bow, led Obi-Wan from the chambers.

*~*~*

They hadn't been cooling their heels long in the anteroom when the Padawan fetched them again. The small grin of satisfaction on Master Monroe's face did nothing to inspire confidence in Qui-Gon as they bowed again before the assembled Masters.

"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, the Council has decided not to grant you this request." Monroe said without preamble.

"May I ask why, Master," Qui-Gon inquired.

"It is the conclusion of the Council that your goals are such that conflict with the Code, and that you are undertaking this investigation to avenge the death of a friend, rather than to 'protect the Order' as Padawan Kenobi put it." Monroe paused a beat before continuing. "If there is to be an investigation, it will be conducted by those who are farther removed, and so can remain impartial. Such an investigation will only be permitted after a full review of all data and interpolations thereof that Padawan Kenobi used to come to his conclusions."

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to explain his position once more. He knew why his Master and Monroe clashed at that moment. The man was ready to disregard all the evidence at his disposal because he couldn't believe that someone would be beyond the petty need for revenge.

Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. He had been prepared for the eventuality that this could happen. "Then, my Master," he said with a half bow, stepping forward. "My path is clear. I relinquish the rank and title of Jedi Padawan and I take my leave." He unclipped his lightsaber from where it hung on his belt and handed it to Mace, who accepted it with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. 

Qui-Gon didn't even blink as he watched his apprentice. "I also, relinquish my title," Qui-Gon said, passing his saber to Mace with a small bow.

"We take our leave," Qui-Gon said formally, and led Obi-Wan from the Chamber. 

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, forgotten something, you have," Yoda spoke up for the first time that morning, his ears almost flat against his head in sadness and irritation.

"Yes?" Obi-Wan turned back and knelt at the wizened Master's cue.

A knife was pulled from somewhere in Yoda's robes and in one quick movement, cut the Padawan braid from where it hung behind the young man's right ear. "To leave the Jedi you have chosen. An apprentice you are no longer. In peace, you may go. May the Force be with you." Yoda retreated to his low chair, knife and braid disappearing into the folds of his robes as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan left the Council Chambers.

*~*~*

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan made their way back to their rooms in silence. The night's sleeplessness was starting to catch up to Obi-Wan; he swayed unsteadily as the lift rose smoothly to the residential level. He leaned on the side of the lift casually, not betraying his weariness. He felt he'd aged years in the last hour.

They reached their quarters and Obi-Wan made for the kitchen to start tea, while Qui-Gon stationed himself at the comm, making preparations, Obi-Wan supposed. While he waited for the water to come to a boil, the apprentice absent-mindedly reached for the braid that had previously hung over his right shoulder, and started when he found it missing. Oh, Force, what have I done? he thought, and slumped into a nearby chair.

His breath came in great heaving gasps, and somewhere in the back of his mind he realized he was hyperventilating. I've left the Order. Qui-Gon left right behind me. Oh, what have I done? The questions and thoughts kept running in circles through his head.

"Obi-Wan, exhale."

So conditioned he was to obeying that voice, he blew out his breath in one great rush, and quickly sucked in another, but focused on the calm voice at his side, helping him bring his breathing back under control and circumvent the full blown panic attack.

Once his breathing was back to normal, Obi-Wan looked down into his Master's face, where the older man kneeled before him, his large hands on Obi-Wan's thighs. "Please tell me you didn't do this for me?"

Qui-Gon did him the service of not being obtuse. "No, Obi-Wan. I had planned for this. Between a casual warning from Mace, and a subtle warning through the Force during my meditations, I came to the conclusion that there was a very good chance our request would be denied."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Obi-Wan let the hurt and irrational anger at being left out of the loop burn away the last vestiges of panic.

"For the same reason you wouldn't tell me, Padawan," Qui-Gon said softly. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to follow me. You had to make your own decision, whether it was time to follow orders, or to follow your heart and do what you think is right."

Obi-Wan nodded. He understood, truly he did. 

"Will you tell me something, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked gently.

"Yes, Master?"

"Why did you feel you had to take this route? I understand why I did, and I feel we may be of the same conclusions, but I need to know."

Obi-Wan took a moment to put his thoughts in order. "I gave Lida my word, that these attacks would not continue. It's not so much that I need to avenge Bant, as Master Monroe suggested, as that I *swore* I would do my duty as a Jedi to keep anymore people from being needlessly hurt. When Master Monroe questioned my judgement about my research and my intentions, it became clear to me that he wouldn't allow an investigation, even if our information was rock solid. When he refused me, refused us," he clarified, "I decided that the only way I could uphold both my oath as a Jedi and my promise to Lida was to resign from the Order, and take matters into my own hands."

"I felt much the same way," Qui-Gon responded. 

The comm chirped, and Qui-Gon rose to answer it, leaving Obi-Wan to see to the tea. No sooner had the Padawan poured the two cups did Qui-Gon re-enter the small kitchen.

"Leave the tea, Padawan. Quickly, you must pack what you feel is absolutely essential, and nothing more."

"Master?" Obi-Wan was puzzled at the abruptness of the order.

"Mace has arranged transport for us, but we must leave quickly or the chances of us leaving unnoticed will be considerably smaller."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan abandoned the kettle and cups, and headed straight for his small room, adding only a few holos to his already packed travel bag. He did a quick survey of the area he had called home for the last seven years, and deciding there was nothing else essential, he let the door shut behind him.

Noises from Qui-Gon's room drew his attention. "Master?" he called out.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"I'm already packed, and I told Lida I'd stop by after the meeting. Can I meet you at the transport?" Obi-Wan shouldered his pack in anticipation, ready to carry it with him down to the infirmary and then to the shuttle bay.

"Yes, Ben. But be at the transport in no more than fifteen minutes," came the reply.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan called over his shoulder on his way out the door.

*~*~*

Obi-Wan made it to the infirmary in record time. He had precious little of it to waste and so took as many shortcuts as he could think of. When he arrived at Lida's bedside, he was dismayed to find her asleep. Torn, but short on time, he decided to wake to her. He shook her shoulder gently, and prompted her to consciousness with soft calls of her name. It didn't take long for the healer to waken; Obi-Wan surmised there were fewer drugs in her system.

"Obi-Wan?" she asked when she opened her eyes. "What happened?"

"I've left the Order. Master Qui-Gon too," he reported without hesitation. "They refused us, and it was the only option. We are leaving; Mace has arranged some kind of transport for us, and it's leaving in about," he checked his chrono. "About seven minutes."

Lida looked like she wanted to say something, but Obi-Wan kept talking. "I wanted to say goodbye, and let you know I'll be in touch, through less than honorable means, if I must. I'm sorry this has to be such a fast goodbye, but I can't help the way things must be." He gave her a kiss on each cheek. "I will see you again, Lida. May the Force be with you."

Before Lida could respond, he was back out the door. 

*~*~*

Obi-Wan skidded to a stop mere centimeters from Qui-Gon's back. He was a little surprised to see Mace Windu and Master Yoda waiting for them at the shuttle bay. He bowed, a little ungracefully as he regained his balance.

"You might need these," Mace said, and handed their lightsabers back to them.

Obi-Wan took his, and reattached itself to his belt. When time allowed, he and Qui-Gon would change out of their Jedi robes and into civilian garb. 

"Come back to us, you will, when finished this mission, you have," Yoda said. "Of your resignation, only the Council will know. A secret from the rest of the Order it will be. Regular reports, I want, through a secured means."

"I'm sure Obi-Wan can handle that, Master," Qui-Gon said, a small smile on his face, despite the circumstances.

Mace glanced at a wrist chrono. "You must go now. Monroe will no doubt be trying to track you down by now, and it will be best if he doesn't catch up to you." He pulled Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan to him in turn, and gave them both a friendly embrace. "Please be safe, my friends. May the Force be with you."

Yoda echoed Mace's sentiment, and thumped each of them softly on the shin with his stick for emphasis. "Careful, you will be. Guide you, the Force will."

"Thank you, Masters." Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan bowed, then made their way up the ramp of the transport, closing it behind them, and began the lift off procedures that would take them from Coruscant.

The End…for now…

   [1]: mailto:ladyvorgunby@hotmail.com



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